Series  of  /Ifcooern  jpbilosopbers. 

Edited  by  £.  Hershey  Sneatk,  Ph.D. 


DESCARTES  by  PKOF.  H.  A.  P.  TORREY  of  the 

University  of  Vermont.* 
SPINOZA  by  PROF.  GEO.  S.  FULLERTON  of  the 

University  of  Pennsylvania.* 
LOCKE  by  PROF.  JOHN  E.  RUSSELL  of  Williams 

College.* 

HUME  by   PROF.  H.  AUSTIN  AIKINS  of  Trinity 
College,  N.  C* 

REID   by  E.   HERSHEY   SNEATH  of  Yale  Uni- 
versity.* 

KANT    by    PROF.   JOHN   WATSON  of   Queen's 
University,  Canada.* 

HEGEL  by  PROF.  JOSIAH   ROYCE  of  Harvard 
University. 

*  Those  marked  with  an  asterisk  are  ready. 


HENRY  HOLT  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS, 

NEW  YORK. 


Series  of  flDooern  pbilosopbers 

Edited  by  E.  Hershey  Sneath,  Ph.  D. 

THE 

\PHILOSOPHYOF  DESCARTESf 


IN 


EXTRACTS  FROM  HIS  WRITINGS 

SELECTED  AND  TRANSLA  TED 
BY 

HENRY  A.  P.  TORREY,  A.  M. 

Marsh  Professor  of  Philosophy  in  the  University  of  Vermont 


NEW  YORK: 
HENRY   HOLT  AND   COMPANY 

1892 


COPYRIGHT,  1892, 

BY 

HENRY    HOLT    &   CO. 


THE  MERSHON  COMPANY  PRESS, 
RAHWAY,  N.  J. 


PREFACE. 

THE  following  translations  from  the  philosophical 
writings  of  Descartes  are  made,  with  one  exception, 
from  the  French  text  of  Cousin's  edition  of  the  col- 
lected works  in  eleven  volumes.  The  extracts  from 
the  "  Principles"  are  translated  from  the  Latin  text 
of  an  Elzevir  edition  of  the  Opera  PJiUosophica,  Amst., 
1677.  No  selections  have  been  made  from  the  mathe- 
matical writings,  as  not  coming  within  the  scope  of 
the  series.  For  the  same  reason,  as  well  as  for  want 
of  space,  the  more  specifically  physical  views  of  Des- 
cartes are  not  fully  represented.  Much,  perhaps,  will 
be  missed,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  portions  of  writings 
which,  to  the  translator's  knowledge,  have  not  hither- 
to appeared  in  English,  have  been  introduced.  It  is 
perhaps  unnecessary  to  add  that  in  making  his  selec- 
tions the  translator  has  derived  much  aid  from  the 
great  historians  of  philosophy,  particularly,  Kuno 
Fischer,  Erdmann,  and  Ueberweg,  and  from  the  recent 
treatise  of  Liard.  In  the  revision  of  certain  portions 
of  the  work,  Professor  Veitch's  version  has  been  con- 
sulted with  advantage. 


Hi 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

BIBLIOGRAPHY  ........................................      v 

LIFE  AND  WRITINGS  ...................................       i 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  DESCARTES  AND  ITS  INFLUENCE  ......     15 

SELECTIONS  FROM  DESCARTES'  WRITINGS   ARRANGED  IN 
PARTS  ..........................................  37-345 

Part  First.  —  METHOD  .............................  37-104 

The  Discourse  Upon  Method.  —  Parts  I,  II,  III  ......     37 

Rules  for  the  Direction  of  the  Mind  ................     61 


Fart  S^wa'.—  METAPHYSICS.  .  .  ....................  107-204 

Meditations  on  the  First  Philosophy  ................   107 

Principles  of  Philosophy,  Part  I  .........  ..........   191 

Part  Third.  —  PHYSICS  .............................  207-272 

The  World,  or  Essay  Upon  Light  ...................   207 

Part  Fourth.  —  PHYSIOLOGY  .........................  275-287 

The  Tract  on  Man  ..............................  275 

Automatism  of  Brutes  ............................  281 

Pa  >-t  Fifth.  —  PSYCHOLOGY  .........................  291-326 

The  Passions  of  the  Soul  .........................  ,  291 

Part  Sixth  .—ETHICS  ..............................  329-345 

On  the  Happy  Life  ..............................  329 

On  the  Summum  Bonum  ..........................  342 

INDEX  ...............................................  347 


BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

I.    Works  of  Descartes  published  during  his  lifetime. 

1.  £ssais  philosophiques,  which  consisted    of    Dis- 
cours  de  la  Methode  pour  bien  c.onduire  sa  raison,  et 
chercherla  verite  dans  les  sciences;  plus  la  Dioptrique, 
les  MMores,  et  la   Geometric,  qui  sont  des  essais  de 
cette  Methode.  Leyde,  1637.    Published  anonymously. 

R.  Cartesii  Specimina  Philosophies  sive  dissertatio  de 
methodo  recte  regendse  rationis,  Dioptrice  et  meteora 
ex  gallico  latine  versa  (par  Etienne  de  Courcelles)  et 
ab  autero  emendata.  Amst.,  Elzev.,  1644. 

Geometria  a  R.  Descartes,  gallice  edita,  cum  notis 
Florim.  de  Beaune,  latine  versa  et  commentariis  illus- 
trata  a  Fr.  a  Schooten.  Lugd.  Bat.  J.  Maire,  1649. 

2.  Renati  Descartes  Meditationes  de  prima  philoso- 
phia,  ubi  de  Dei  existentia  et  animae  immortalitate  ; 
his  adjunctae  sunt   variae  objectiones   doctorum   vi- 
rorum  in  istas  de  Deo  et  anima  demonstrationes,  cum 
responsionibus  auctoris.     Paris,  1641. 

Second  edition  of  the  same,  with  changed  title  and 
Bourdin's  objections  with  replies  added,  published 
under  the  author's  superintendence.  Amst.,  Elzev., 
1642. 

French  version  of  Meditationes  by  the  Due  de 
Luynes;  of  the  Objectiones  et  Responsiones'by  Clerselier; 
the  whole  revised  by  the  author.  Paris,  1647. 

3.  Renati  Descartes  Principia  Philosophic.     Amst., 
Elzev.,  1644. 

Principes  de  la  Philosophic  ecrits  en  latin  par  Rene* 
Descartes,  et  traduits  en  francais  par  un  de  ses  amis 
[the  Abbe  Picot].  Paris,  1647. 

4.  Epistola  Renati  Descartes  ad  celeberrimum  virum 
Gisbertum  Voetium,  in  quaexaminantur  duolibri  nuper 
pro  Voe'tio  Ultrajecti  simul  editi  :  unus  de  confrater- 


Vlll  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

nitate  Mariana,  alter  de  philosophia  Cartesiana.  Amst., 
Elzev.,  1643. 

5.  ft.  Descartes  nota   in  programma   quoddam  sub 
finem  anni  1647  in  Belgio  editum  cum  hoc  titulo  :  ex- 
plicatio   mentis  humanse   sive  animae  rationalis,  ubi 
explicatur,  quid  sit  et  quid  esse  possit.     Amst.,  Elzev., 
1648.     These    "note"   appear    in     the   "  Lettres," 
CEuvres  (Cousin),  t.   10,  p.  70.     A  Monsieur  .... 
[Regius]  Remarques  de  Rene*  Descartes  surun  certain 
placard  imprime"  aux  Pays-Bas  vers  la  fin  de  I'anne'e 

1647. 

6.  Les passions  de  rdme.     Amst.,  Elzev.,  1650. 

II.  Posthumous  works. 

1.  Edited  by  Clerselier. 

1.  Le  monde,  ou  traite  de  la  lumiere.     Paris, 
1677.     (First  published  [not  by  Clerselier] 
in  1664.) 

2.  Traite  defhomme.     Paris,  1646.     De  la  for- 
mation du  foetus,  published  in  connection  with 
the  preceding. 

3.  Les  lettres  de  Rene  Descartes,  3  vols.     Paris, 
1657-1667. 

2.  Not  edited  by  Clerselier. 

1.  Opera  postuma  Cartesii,  Amst.,    1701,    con- 
taining, with  others,  two  works  published  for 
the   first   time,  viz.:   Regnlce  ad  directionem 
ingenii.     {Regies  pour  la  direction  de  I' esprit, 
CEuvres   [Cousin   ed.]   t.    u,  pp.  201-329), 
and   Inquisitio  veritatis  per  lumen    naturale 
(Recherche    de    la    verite    par    les    lumieres 
naturelles,  CEuvres  [Cousin],  t.  u,  pp.  333- 
376). 

2.  Compendium  musica,     Utrecht,  1650. 

3.  Traite1  de  la  m/canique  compost  par  M.  Des- 
cartes, de  plus  1'abre'ge'  de  la  musique   du 

meme   auteur,   mis    en    francais N. 

Poisson,  Paris,  1668. 

III.  Collected  works. 

i.  Opera  philosophica.    Elzevir,  Amst.,  1644  (Editio 
tertia,  1656),  1670,  1672,  1674,  1677. 


BIBLIOGRAPHY.  IX 

2.  Opera  omnia,  ist  ed.  8  vols.  1670-83.     ad  ed.  9 
vols.    1692-1701    and    1713.      Elzevir,   Amst.      See 
Brunei. 

3.  Opera  omnia.     Frankfort,  7  vols.   in  410,  1697. 
See  Bouillier,  t.  i,  p.  36. 

4.  CEuvres  de  Descartes,  Paris,   1724,    13   vols.  in 
i2mo.     "  Fort  incomplete."     Bouillier. 

5.  CEuvres  de  Descartes,  publie"es  par  Victor  Cousin, 
ii  vols.  in  8vo.     Paris,  1824-26.     (The  most  nearly 
complete  edition.) 

6.  CEuvres  philosophiques,  Gamier,  4  vols.  in  8vo. 
Paris,  1835. 

7.  CEuvres  inedites  de  Descartes.     Foucher  de  Careil, 
Paris,  1859-60. 

8.  CEuvres  de  Descartes,  nouvelle  Edition  prece'de'e 
d'une  introduction  par  Jules  Simon.     Paris,  1868. 

[The  above  titles  have  been  collected  mainly  from 
the  bibliographical  notices  of  Kuno  Fischer  (Descartes 
and  his  School,  p.  298,  trans.)  ;  Ueberweg  (Hist,  of 
Philos.,  Vol.  ii,  p.  42,  trans.);  Bouillier  (Hist,  de  la 
Philos.  Carte"sienne,  t.  i,  p.  36),  and  Brunet  (Manuel du 
Libraire). 

For  an  interesting  account  of  the  lost  writings  see 
Kuno  Fischer,  Descartes,  p.  300.] 

WORKS  RELATING  TO  DESCARTES. 

1.  Renati    Descartes  Principia    Philosophica    more 
geometrico   demonstrata  per  Benedictum  de  Spinoza. 
Amst.  1663. 

This  volume  contained  as  an  appendix  his  Cogitata 
Metaphysica,  the  earliest  published  work  of  Spinoza. 

2.  Censura    philosophies     Cartesiance,    Paris,   1689, 
and  Nouveaux  Mtmoires  pour  servir  a  I'histoire  du 
Carttsianisme,  Paris,    1692,  both  by  (Bishop)   Daniel 
Huet. 

3.  Voyage  du  Monde  de  Descartes,  par  P.  G.  Daniel. 
Paris,  1691. 

The  same,  Iter  per  Mundtim  Cartesii.  Amst,  1694. 
Containing  also,  Novae  Difficultates  a  Peripateticopro- 
positx,  etc. 


X  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

4.  Dictionnaire  historique  et  critique,  Pierre  Bayle. 
1695-97,    1702,  2  vols.   1740,   4  vols.      Engl.   trans. 
London,  1736. 

5.  Le  Carte"sianisme,  ou  la  veritable  renovation    des 
sciences.    Bordas-Demoulin.     Paris,  1843. 

6.  Fragments  de  Philosophic  Cartesienne:  Fragments 
dePhilosophieModerne,  par  V.  Cousin.    Paris,  1852  and 

1854. 

7.  Histoire  de  la  Philosophic  Carte"sienne,  par  F.Bouil- 
lier.  2  vols.,  Paris,  1854.     (The  principal  authority  on 
the  subject.) 

8.  Descartes,  ses  Pre'curseurs  et  ses  Disciples,  par 
E.  Saisset.    Paris,  1865. 

9.  Descartes,   par   L.  Liard.    Paris,    1882.     (A  re- 
markably fresh  and  interesting    presentation  of  the 
speculations  of  Descartes  in  the  light  of  contempo- 
rary science  and  philosophy.) 

10.  Descartes  (in  Blackwood's  Philosophical  Clas- 
sics), by  J.  P.  Mahaffy.     Edin.  and  Phila.,  1881. 

11.  Commentaire  sur  les  Meditations  de   Descartes, 
Par  Maine  de  Biran  (Found   in  Bertrand's  Science  et 
Psycologie :    nouvelles   ceuvres   intdites   de   De   Biran. 
Paris,  1887).     See  Mind,  vol.  12,  p.  625. 

12.  77/i?  Fundamental  Doctrines  of  Descartes.     By 
H.  Sedgwick  (in  Mind,  vol.  7,  pp.  435,  seq.) 

13.  The  Method,  Meditations  and  Selections  from  the 
Principles  of  Descartes,  translated   from  the  original 
texts,  with  introductory  essay,  historical  and  critical, 
by  J.  Veitch.     Edin.   and   Lond.   (ist  ed.    1850-52), 
Tenth  edition,  1890. 

("  The  extracts  from  the  Principles  correspond  to 
what  is  found  in  the  edition  of  Gamier."  Two  earlier, 
now  rare,  English  versions  are  mentioned  by  the 
author:  The  Method,  Lond.,  1649;  The  Meditations, 
\V.  Molyneux,  Lond.,  1680.  See  preface.) 

14.  A  translation   of  the  Meditations  appeared  in 
the  Journal  of  Speculative   Philosophy,   vol.  4,   1870, 
and  of  the  introduction    to    the  Meditations,  in  the 
same  Journal,  vol.  5,  April,   1871,  both  by  Wm.  R. 
Walker. 

Among  the  historians    of     philosophy  who    have 


BIBLIOGRAPHY.  Xt 

treated  of  Descartes  at  length  should  be  mentioned 
especially  : 

Kuno  Fischer  :  Geschichte  der  neuern  Philosophic. 
Mannheim,  1854,  seq.  New  editions  of  the  earlier 
volumes  have  since  appeared.  The  third  and  revised 
edition  of  the  first  volume,  containing  Descartes, 
has  recently  been  translated  into  English  by  J.  P. 
Gordy,  Ph.  D.,  under  the  title,  History  of  Modern 
Philosophy,  by  Kuno  Fischer,  Descartes  and  his 
school.  New  York,  1887.  Kuno  Fischer  also  has  trans- 
lated into  German  the  principal  philosophical  works 
of  Descartes.  Mannheim,  1863. 

Titles  of  numerous  essays  on  Descartes,  mostly 
German,  maybe  found  in  Ueberweg's  full  bibliography 
(Hist,  of  Philos.,  vol.  ii,  p.  43,  trans.).  In  addition 
may  be  mentioned  the  following  recent  mono- 
graphs : 

P.  J.  Schmid  :  Die  Prinzipien  der  menschlichen 
Erkenntniss  nach  Descartes.  (Promotionsschrift), 
Leipzig. 

Hartmann:  Die  Lehredes  Cartcsius  De  Passionibus 
Animce  nnd  des  Spinoza  De  Affectibus  Humanis  darge- 
stellt  und  verglichen.  W.  Ohlan,  1878. 

B.  Gutzeit:  Descartes'  angeborene  Ideen  verglichen 
mit  Kant's  Anschamuigs-und-Denkformen  a  priori. 
Bromberg,  1883. 

B.  Trognitz  :  Die  mathematische  Methode  in  Des- 
cartes' philosophischem  Systeme.  Saalfeld,  1887. 

P.  Plessner  :  Die  LeJire  von  den  Leidenschaften  bei 
Descartes.  (Inaugural  Dissertation.)  Leipzig,  1888. 

Wm.  Wallace  :  Article  on  Descartes  in  the  Encyclo- 
pedia Britannica.  Ninth  edition. 

Neuf  lettres  ine'dites  a  Mersenne.  See  notice  in 
Mind,  Oct.  1891  (vol.  16,  p.  555). 

WORKS  ON  THE  LIFE  OF  DESCARTES. 

Descartes  :  Discours  sur  la  Methode. 
A.  Baillet:  La  vie  de  Mr.  des  Cartes.      Paris,  1691, 
abridged,  1693. 

Thomas:  Eloge  de  Rene  Descartes.    Paris,  1765  (Dis- 


XU  BIBLIOGRAPHY. 

cours  qui  a  remporte  le  prix  de  I' Academic  francaise 
en  1765).  Especially  the  Notes  to  the  above. 

J.  Millet  :  Histoirt  de  Descartes  avant  1637  (Paris, 
1867),  depuis  1637  (Paris,  1870). 

Kuno  Fischer:  Hist,  of  Mod.  Philos.,  Descartes  and 
his  school  (trans.),  pp.  165-297. 

J.  P.  Mahaffy:     Descartes,     pp.  7-143. 

C.  G.  J.  Jacobi :  Ueber  Descartes'  Leben.  Berlin, 
1846. 


LIFE  AND  WRITINGS. 

RENE  DESCARTES  (De  Quartis)*  was  born  March 
30,  1596,  at  La  Haye,  in  the  province  of  Tou- 
raine.  His  father,  Joachim  Descartes,  was  a  coun- 
cilor of  the  parliament  of  Bretagne.  His  mother, 
Jeanne  Brochard,  was  the  daughter  of  a  lieu- 
tenant-general of  Poitiers.  She  was  of  a  delicate 
constitution,  and  transmitted  to  Rene,  her  third  and 
last  child,  the  germs  of  consumption,  of  which  disease 
she  died  a  few  days  after  his  birth.  Like  Newton, 
the  feeble  boy  seemed  destined  to  an  early  grave, 
but  careful  nursing  saved  him.  The  wise  father 
would  not  suffer  the  eager  mind  in  the  frail  body  to 
be  overtaxed.  Allowed  to  carry  on  his  studies,  but 
only  as  play,  the  reflective  turn  of  the  boy's  mind 
asserted  itself  in  constant  inquiries  into  the  causes 
of  things,  and  before  he  was  eight  years  old  his 
father  began  to  call  him  his  "  little  philosopher." 
In  1604  Rene  was  sent  to  the  college  of  La  Fleche, 
in  Anjou,  recently  established  by  Henry  IV.  in  the 
royal  palace,  under  the  care  of  the  Jesuits,  and 
designed  to  be  the  foremost  school  for  the  education 
of  the  nobility.  The  impression  made  upon  the  young 
mind  of  the  philosopher  by  the  studies  there  pursued 
is  vividly  conveyed  in  his  own  words  in  his  Discourse 
on  Method.  He  finished  his  course  at  La  Fleche  in 

*  Thomas,  Notes  sur  FEloge.     (Euvres  de  Descartes  (Cousin),  t. 
i,  p.  81. 


2  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

1612,  when  he  was  sixteen  years  of  age.  Among  his 
schoolmates  one,  eight  years  older  than  himself,  Marin 
Mersenne,  was  destined  to  be  his  lifelong  friend. 
The  point  of  chief  interest  is  this  :  the  mind  which 
was  to  lay  the  foundation  for  modern  philosophy  there 
became  interested,  not  in  learning  merely,  but  in 
knowledge,  in  the  nature  of  knowledge  itself,  and  in 
what  can  be  clearly  and  distinctly  known,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  what  is  obscure  and  confused.  Hence 
the  fascination  of  mathematics. 

In  the  year  1613  his  father  sent  young  Rene  to 
Paris  to  see  life.  For  two  years  he  spent  most  of  his 
time  in  amusements,  then  for  two  years  more  shut 
himself  up  in  seclusion  and  pursued  his  studies.  At 
last,  weary  of  the  city  and  convinced  that  he  would 
learn  more  by  mingling  with  the  world  at  large,  in 
1617,  at  the  age  of  twenty-one,  he  enlisted  as  a  volun- 
teer in  the  army  of  the  Netherlands.  He  joined  the 
garrison  in  Breda,  under  the  Prince  Maurice  of  Nas- 
sau. During  two  years'  stay  there,  while  an  armistice 
prevailed,  he  found  leisure  to  cultivate  mathematics, 
and  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  celebrated  mathema- 
tician, Beeckman,  for  whom  he  wrote  his  Compen- 
dium Musicce,  the  earliest  of  his  works  now  extant. 
From  the  army  of  the  Netherlands  he  went  to  Bavaria 
and  enlisted  in  the  service  of  Maximilian  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Thirty  Years'  War,  and  afterward  in  that 
of  the  Emperor  Ferdinand  II.  He  took  part  in  sev- 
eral campaigns  in  Bohemia  and  Hungary,  but  finally 
quitted  the  service  and  ended  his  military  life  soon 
after  the  battle  of  Neuhasel,  in  July,  1621.  He  was 
then  twenty-five  years  of  age.  Intervals  of  peace 
favored  the  philosopher  during  his  career  as  a  soldier. 
Diplomatic  negotiations  interrupted  the  movements 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS.  3 

of  the  Bavarian  army,  they  went  into  winter  quar- 
ters, and  Descartes  was  stationed  at  Neuburg,  on  the 
Danube,  during  the  winter  of  1619-20.  During  that 
period,  left  undisturbed  to  his  reflections,  he  made  a 
memorable  discovery.*  It  produced  so  profound  an 
impression  upon  his  mind  that  he  put  down  in  his  diary 
the  exact  date.  "  On  the  tenth  of  November  I  began 
to  make  a  wonderful  discovery. "f  It  was  probably 
"  his  first  glimpse  of  the  principles  of  the  fundamental 
science,  or  mathesis  universalis"  \  to  the  development 
of  which  he  thereafter  devoted  his  life.  He  saw  the 
possibility  of  solving  geometrical  problems  by  algebra, 
and  laid  the  foundations  of  analytical  geometry.  But 
the  inventum  mirabile  meant  for  Descartes  a  great 
deal  more  than  this.  He  thought  he  had  discovered 
the  key  to  unlock  all  the  mysteries  of  nature.  He 
thought  that  by  considering  all  physical  change  as 
matter  in  motion  he  could  subject  the  whole  realm  of 
nature  to  mathematical  demonstration.  §  But  his 
thought  went  even  further  than  this.  He  conceived 
mathematical  knowledge  as  the  type  of  all  knowledge. 
Its  criterion  of  certainty,  clear  and  distinct  intuition, 
its  analytical  method,  he  would  apply  to  the  cogni- 

*  See  Discourse  on  Method,  part  ii . 

f  "  Intelligere  coepi  fundamentum  invent!  mirabilis."  Kuno 
Fischer's  Descartes,  trans.,  p.  194. 

\  Erdmann,  Hist,  of  Philos.  Modern,  trans.,  p.  9. 

§  "  In  the  words  of  his  epitaph,  written  by  his  intimate  friend 
Chanut,  with  whom  he  had  often  talked  over  his  mental  history : 
'  In  his  winter  furlough,  comparing  the  mysteries  of  nature  with 
the  laws  of  mathematics,  he  dared  to  hope  that  the  secrets  of  both 
could  be  unlocked  by  the  same  key.' — In  otiis  hibernis  Naturrc 
mysteria  componens  cum  legibus  Matheseos,  utriusque  arcana 
eadem  clave  reserari  posse  ausus  est  sperare."  Mahaffy's  Des- 
cartes, p.  27. 


4  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

tion  of  every  branch  of  human  inquiry.  He  would 
thus  lay  new  foundations  for  philosophy.  After  quit- 
ting  the  army  Descartes  spent  the  next  five  years 
mostly  in  travel,  then  for  three  years  he  lived  in  se- 
clusion in  the  suburbs  of  Paris.  It  was  probably  dur- 
ing these  years  that  he  wrote  out  the  first  sketch  of 
his  doctrine  of  method,  The  Rules  for  the  Direction 
of  the  Mind  {Regula  ad  Directionem  Ingenii). 

In  1629,  at  the  age  of  thirty-three,  the  philosopher 
sought  and  found  a  country  and  a  mode  of  life  most 
favorable  to  the  prosecution  of  his  design.*  Acting 
upon  the  maxim,  Bene  vixit,  bene  qui  latuit,  he  went 
secretly  to  Holland,  where  in  a  favorable  climate  he 
enjoyed  during  twenty  years  the  desired  seclusion, 
and  there  produced  that  series  of  remarkable  works 
which  gave  a  new  direction  to  speculative  thought 
and  laid  the  basis  of  modern  philosophy. 

The  philosophical  works  of  Descartes  appeared  in 
the  following  order.  The  Discourse  upon  Method  was 
the  first.  It  was  published  anonymously  at  Leyden, 
June  8,  1637,  in  connection  with  the  Dioptric,  the  Me- 
teors, and  the  Geometry.  The  volume  was  entitled  : 
"  Discourse  on  the  Method  of  Rightly  Conducting  the 
Reason,  and  Seeking  Truth  in  the  Sciences,  also  the 
Dioptric,  the  Meteors,  and  the  Geometry,  which  are 
essays  in  this  Method."  The  whole  work  was  known 
also  as  "  The  Philosophical  Essays."  "  Written," 
says  Mahaffy,f  <l  in  the  popular  tongue  of  Europe,  and 
with  a  clearness  and  simplicity  rarely  equaled  even  in 

*  "  I  desire  quiet.  I  have  guided  my  life  thus  far  according  to 
the  motto  Bene  vixit,  bene  qui  latuit,  and  I  intend  to  continue  to 
do  so."  Letter  to  Mersenne,  January  10,  1634,  (Euvres,  t.  vi,  p. 

243- 

f  Descartes,  p.  70. 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS.  5 

French  prose — the  best  prose  in  modern  Europe — it 
[the  Discourse  of  Method]  produced  an  electric  shock 
throughout  the  learned  world,  which  no  other  work 
of  the  kind  ever  did  in  the  history  of  philosophy." 
Descartes  himself  thus  justifies  his  use  of  his  native 
tongue  rather  than  Latin,  the  tongue  of  the  learned, 
as  a  vehicle  for  his  scientific  thought.  "  And  if  I 
write  in  French,  which  is  my  vernacular,  rather  than  in 
Latin,  the  language  of  my  teachers,  the  reason  is  that 
I  believe  that  those  who  make  use  of  their  simple 
natural  reason  will  be  better  judges  of  my  opinions 
than  those  who  believe  only  in  the  ancient  books  ; 
and  as  for  those  who  combine  good  sense  with  learn- 
ing,  whom  alone  I  desire  for  my  judges,  they  will  not, 
I  am  sure,  be  so  partial  to  the  Latin  as  to  refuse  to 
attend  to  my  arguments  because  I  present  them  in 
the  vulgar  tongue."  * 

In  explanation  of  the  title  of  the  work,  Descartes, 
writing  to  his  friend  Mersenne,  says,  "  I  do  not  call 
it  Treatise  upon  method,  but  Discourse  upon  method, 
which  is  the  same  as  Preface  or  Announcement  of  the 
method,  to  show  that  I  have  no  intention  of  unfolding 
it,  but  only  of  talking  about  it ;  for,  as  may  be  seen 
from  what  I  say  of  it,  it  consists  rather  in  practice  than 
in  theory  ;  and  I  call  the  treatises  which  follow  essays 
in  this  method,  because  I  contend  that  the  things  they 
contain  could  not  have  been  discovered  without  it, 
and  one  may  learn  from  them  the  value  of  it.  As  also 
I  have  inserted  in  the  first  discourse  something  in 
metaphysics,  in  physics,  and  in  medicine,  to  show  that 
it  applies  to  all  sorts  of  matters."  f  In  a  letter  to  a 
friend  of  Mersenne,  he  says  further,  "  I  think  I  have 

*  Discours  de  la  Mtthode,  p.  6,  ad  fin.     (Ettvres,  t.  i,  p.  210. 
t  Let  (res,  CEuvres,  t.  vi,  p.  138. 


0  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES. 

shown  that  I  employ  a  method  by  which  I  might  ex- 
plain equally  well  any  other  matter,  provided  I  could 
make  the  necessary  experiments  and  had  the  time  to 
consider  them."*  Regarding  the  Method  of  Des- 
cartes, Saisset  has  very  well  said  :  "  It  ought  not  to  be 
forgotten  that  in  publishing  the  Method,  Descartes 
joined  to  it,  as  a  supplement,  the  Dioptrics,  the  Geom- 
etry, and  the  Meteors.  Thus  at  one  stroke  he  founded, 
on  the  basis  of  a  new  method,  two  sciences  hitherto 
almost  unknown  and  of  infinite  importance — Mathe- 
matical Physics  and  the  application  of  Algebra  to  Ge- 
ometry ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  gave  the  prelude 
to  the  Meditations  and  the  Principles — that  is  to  say, 
to  an  original  Metaphysic,  and  the  mechanical  theory 
of  the  universe."  f 

Next  appeared,  in  1641,  his  most  important  work, 
the  Meditations.  It  was  published  first  at  Paris  with 
the  title,  "  Meditationes  de  prima  philosophia,  ubi  de  Dei 
existentia  et  animcz  immortalitate"  A  second  edition 
was  published  in  Amsterdam  by  Elzevir  in  1642,  with 
the  title  somewhat  changed,  "  Meditationes  de  prima 
philosophia,  in  quibus  Dei  existentia  ct  ammo,  humancs 
a  corpore  distinctio  demonstrantur."  J  The  Medita- 
tions are  six  in  number,  with  the  following  titles  :  The 
First  ;  of  the  Things  which  may  be  Doubted.  The 
Second  ;  of  the  Nature  of  the  Human  Mind  ;  and  that 
it  is  more  easily  known  than  the  Body.  The  Third  ; 
of  God  ;  that  He  exists.  The  Fourth  ;  of  Truth  and 
Error.  The  Fifth ;  of  the  Essence  of  Material 
Things,  and,  for  the  second  time,  of  the  Existence 
of  God.  The  Sixth;  of  the  Existence  of  Material 

*  Lettres,  (Euvres,  t.  vi,  p.  306. 
f  Veitch,  Descartes,  Introd.,  p.  xii. 
\.  See  K.  Fischer,  Descartes,  p.  247. 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS.  7 

Things,  and  of  the  Real  Distinction  between  the 
Soul  and  the  Body  of  Man.  In  a  somewhat  unique 
way  the  writer  endeavored  to  forestall  criticism.  Be- 
fore the  work  was  printed,  he  sent  copies  of  it 
in  manuscript,  through  Mersenne  and  other  friends,  to 
several  of  the  most  learned  men  of  the  time,  soliciting 
their  objections.  Seven  sets  of  objections  were  thus 
collected,  to  all  of  which  Descartes  made  elaborate  re- 
plies. These  objections,  with  the  replies,  were  added 
to  the  work,  which  was  then  published.  The  first  set 
of  objections  were  those  offered  by  a  certain  Caterus, 
a  Catholic  theologian  of  Louvain,  and  relate  principally 
to  the  proof  of  the  Divine  existence  ;  the  second  and 
sixth  are  reports  of  objections  collected  by  Mersenne 
from  various  persons,  and  concern  the  question  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul  and  the  logical  defects  in  the 
arguments  ;  the  third  are  from  the  English  philosopher 
Thomas  Hobbes,  who  objects,  among  other  things,  to 
clear  conception  being  made  the  test  of  truth  ;  the 
fourth  were  those  of  Antoine  Arnauld,  the  celebrated 
Jansenistof  Port  Royal,  who  questions  Descartes' orig- 
inality in  respect  to  his  Cogito,  ergo  sum,  finds  the  dis- 
tinction between  soul  and  body  too  sharply  drawn, 
detects  a  logical  circle  in  the  attempt  to  prove  the 
divine  existence  by  the  clearness  of  the  idea  of  God, 
and  the  reality  of  what  we  clearly  conceive  by 
the  Divine  veracity,  and  also  finds  difficulty  in  har- 
monizing Descartes'  view  of  substance  and  accident 
with  the  doctrine  of  Transubstantiation.  The  fifth 
set  of  objections  were  those  of  the  French  philosopher, 
Pierre  Gassendi,  who,  from  a  materialistic  point  of  view 
attacked  the  idealism  of  the  new  philosophy.  To 
these  six  series  of  objections,  published  with  Des- 
cartes' replies  in  the  first  edition  of  the  Meditations, 


8  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

there  were  added,  in  the  second  edition,  those 
of  the  Jesuit  Father  Bourdin,  a  scholastic  theologian 
who  sought  to  overthrow  the  new  doctrine  by  attack- 
ing the  method  itself ;  of  greater  importance  were  the 
criticisms  of  the  writer  who  styles  himself  Hype  rasp  is- 
tes,  and  of  Henry  More,  the  Cambridge  Platonist, 
whose  objections  were  not  embodied  in  the  work,  but 
were  published,  with  Descartes'  replies,  among  his  let- 
ters of  the  years  1640  and  1648.* 

The  Meditations,  originally  written  in  Latin,  were 
translated  into  French  by  the  Due  de  Luynes,  and 
the  seven  sets  of  objections  and  replies  by  Clerselier. 
Descartes  revised  the  translations  and  changed  some 
passages  in  the  Latin  text.f  The  French  version 
was  published  in  Paris,  1647. 

The  important  treatise,  The  Principles  of  Philos- 
ophy, followed.  It  was  written  in  Latin.  The  first 
edition,  bearing  the  title,  Renati  Descartes  \  principia 
philosophic,  was  printed  by  the  Elzevirs  in  Amster- 
dam, 1644.  The  treatise  has  four  parts  :  Part  I,  Of 
the  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge.  Part  II,  Of  the 
Principles  of  Material  Things.  Part  III,  Of  the  Visi- 
ble World.  Part  IV,  Of  the  Earth.  The  first  part  is 
a  repetition,  with  slight  additions,  of  the  thoughts  con- 
tained in  the  Meditations.  The  manner  of  the  whole 
work  is  dry  and  scholastic,  as  compared  with  the  free 
and  flowing  style  of  his  other  writings,  but  it  was  in- 
tended to  present  in  a  more  exact  form  a  complete 
summary  of  his  system. 

*  (Euvres,  t.  viii,  p.  242,  t.  x,  p.  178. 

•f  See  K.  Fischer,  Descartes,  p.  299.  Professor  Veitch  has 
collated  the  French  in  his  translation,  which  is  from  the  Latin 
text. 

\  He  objected  to  the  Latinizing  of  his  name. 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS.  9 

The  remaining  parts  contain  the  substance  of  his 
suppressed  treatise,  De  Mundo  (Le  Monde,  on  TraitJ 
de  la  Lumtire}.  A  French  version  was  made  by  one 
of  Descartes'  friends,  the  Abbe  Picot.  It  was  ap- 
proved by  the  author,  who  says  of  it  in  a  letter  to  the 
Abbe",  which  is  printed  as  a  preface  to  the  work : 
"  The  version  of  my  Principles  which  you  have  taken 
the  trouble  to  make  is  so  elegant  and  so  finished  that 
I  am  led  to  hope  it  will  be  read  by  more  people  in 
French  than  in  Latin,  and  that  it  will  be  better  under- 
stood."* 

The  last  work  of  Descartes,  published  in  the  life- 
time of  the  author,  was  the  Treatise  on  the  Passions 
(Traiit  des  Passions  de  I'Ame).  It  was  written  in 
French,  for  the  Princess  Elizabeth  of  the  Palatinate, 
in  1646,  but  not  finished  until  1649.  At  the  solicita- 
tions of  his  friends  the  treatise  was  published  the  fol- 
lowing year,  by  the  Elzevirs,  at  Amsterdam,  by  whom 
also  a  Latin  version  was  brought  out  shortly  after 
the  author's  death.  The  scope  of  the  treatise  is 
indicated  in  these  words:  "My  design  has  not  been 
to  expound  the  passions  as  a  preacher,  nor  even  as  a 
moral  philosopher,  but  solely  as  a  natural  philosopher 
(en physiden),"\  He  seeks  to  exhibit  the  passions  as 
due  to  the  union  of  body  and  soul  and  as  mental  phe- 
nomena resulting  from  the  motions  of  the  animal 
spirits. 

The  motto,  Bene  vixit,  bene  qul  latuit,  which  Des- 
cartes had  adopted  for  his  life,  whether  dictated  by 
prudence  or  timidity,  or  both,  is  characteristic  of  the 
man.  He  lived  at  a  time  when  it  was  dangerous  to 

*  (Euvrts,  t.  iii,  p.  9. 

f  Re'ponst  a  la  Se'conde  Letter,  Les  Passions.  (Eitvres,  t.  iv,  p. 
34- 


10  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OP   DESCARTES. 

express  new  truth  openly.  He  had  to  encounter,  or 
evade,  the  opposition  of  theologians,  both  Catholic 
and  Protestant.  He  chose,  when  it  was  possible,  to 
avoid  a  quarrel.  He  stood  in  fear  of  the  Inquisition. 
With  the  fate  of  Galileo  before  his  eyes,  he  suppressed 
his  treatise  De  Mttndo.  He  thought  it  necessary  to 
do  this,  even  although  in  that  treatise  he  had  presented 
his  views  as  a  mere  hypothesis  of  what  would  happen 
in  an  imaginary  world. 

"  But  because  I  have  endeavored  to  explain  my 
principal  discoveries  in  a  treatise  which  certain 
considerations  prevent  me  from  publishing,  1  can- 
not make  them  understood  better  than  by  giving 

here  a  summary  of  its  contents I  designed 

to  comprehend  in  it  all  that  I  thought  I  knew, 
before  writing  it,  concerning  the  nature  of  material 
things.  But  just  as  painters  do,  who  cannot  represent 
on  a  flat  surface  equally  well  all  the  aspects  of  a  solid 
body,  and  therefore  choose  one  of  the  more  important, 
which  they  set  in  full  light,  and  the  rest  in  shadow,  so 
I,  fearing  I  could  not  get  into  my  essay  all  I  had  in 
my  mind,  undertook  merely  to  set  forth  quite  fully 
what  I  thought  about  light  ;  then,  as  occasion  was  pre- 
sented, to  add  something  about  the  sun  and  the  fixed 
stars,  because  light  proceeds  almost  wholly  from  them  ; 
of  the  heavens,  because  they  transmit  it ;  of  the 
planets,  the  comets,  and  the  earth,  because  they  reflect 
it ;  and,  in  particular,  of  all  bodies  which  are  upon  the 
earth,  because  they  are  either  colored  or  transparent 
or  luminous  ;  and,  finally,  of  man,  because  he  is  the 
spectator  of  all. 

"  But,  in  order  to  put  all  these  things  a  little  into  the 
shade,  and  to  be  able  to  say  more  freely  what  I  thought 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS.  II 

about  them,  without  being  obliged  either  to  accept  or 
to  reject  the  opinion  received  among  the  learned,  I 
resolved  to  leave  this  whole  present  world  to  their  dis- 
putes, and  to  talk  only  of  what  might  happen  in  a  new 
one,  if  God  should  create,  somewhere  in  imaginary 
space,  enough  matter  to  compose  it,  and  should  set 
in  motion  in  various  ways  and  without  order  the 
different  parts  of  this  matter,  so  that  it  should  form 
a  chaos  as  confused  as  ever  poets  could  feign,  and 
thereafter  affording  it  no  more  than  his  ordinary  assist- 
ance to  nature,  leave  it  to  act  according  to  the  laws 
which  he  has  established."  * 

But  the  philosopher  soon  discovered  that  to  present 
his  views  even  under  the  guise  of  a  mere  hypothesis 
would  not  afford  him  sufficient  shelter.  The  doctrine 
of  the  earth's  motion,  a  necessary  part  of  his  theory, 
was  not  tolerated  at  Rome,  even  as  an  hypothesis. 
The  sentence  of  condemnation  against  Galileo,  who 
defended  the  Copernican  theory,  contained  these 
words  :  "  quamvis  hypothetice  a  se  illam  proponi  simu- 
laret."  Writing  to  his  friend  Mersenne  in  November, 
1633,  Descartes  says  :  "I  have  just  been  inquiring  at 
Leyden  and  at  Amsterdam  whether  Galileo's  System 
of  the  World  was  not  there,  for  it  seemed  to  me  I  had 
heard  that  it  had  been  printed  in  Italy  the  past  year. 
They  told  me  that  it  was  true  that  it  had  been  printed, 
but  that  all  the  copies  of  it  were  immediately  burned 
at  Rome,  and  that  he  had  been  sentenced  to  do 
penance  ;  which  made  so  deep  an  impression  upon  me 
that  I  almost  resolved  to  burn  all  my  papers,  or  at 

least  to  let  no  one  see  them And  I  confess 

that  if  it  [the  theory  of  the  earth's  motion]  is  false, 
all  the  principles  of  my  philosophy  are  also  false,  for 

*  Discours.  pt.  v.      (Euvres,  t.  i,  p.  168. 


12  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

it  is  clearly  demonstrated  by  them,  and  it  is  so 
bound  up  with  every  part  of  my  treatise  that  I  could 
not  detach  it  from  them  without  making  the  rest 
defective.  But  as  I  would  not  for  all  the  world 
there  should  go  forth  from  me  an  essay  wherein 
there  should  be  found  the  least  'word  which  would 
be  disapproved  by  the  Church,  I  prefer  to  suppress 
it  rather  than  let  it  appear  in  a  mutilated  condition."  * 
Probably  only  a  fragment  of  the  whole  work  ever 
saw  the  light.  This  was  published  by  Clerselier 
in  correct  form,  in  1677,  entitled,  Le  Monde,  ou  Traitt 
de  la  Lumtire. 

But  our  philosopher  was  not  destined  to  end  his 
days  in  Holland.  The  latter  part  of  his  life  there  was 
greatly  embittered  by  controversy,  particularly  with 
a  Protestant  theologian,  Voe't,  who  had  become  rector 
of  the  University  of  Utrecht,  and  who  had  accused 
Descartes  of  atheism.  In  a  letter  to  his  friend 
Chanut,  November  r,  1646,  he  complains  :  "A  father 
(Bourdin)  thought  he  had  sufficient  ground  for  ac- 
cusing me  of  being  a  skeptic,  because  I  have  refuted 
the  skeptics,  and  a  clergyman  (Voetius)  has  under- 
taken to  make  out  that  I  am  an  atheist,  alleging  no 
other  reason  except  that  I  have  tried  to  prove  the 
existence  of  God."  f  After  four  years  of  persistent 
attack  upon  the  new  philosophy,  Voe't  secured  a  judg- 
ment of  condemnation  on  the  part  of  the  University, 
and  finally,  the  matter  going  the  length  of  libel,  the 
magistrates  of  Utrecht  took  it  up  and  settled  it  by 
prohibiting  publications  for  or  against  Descartes.  In 
the  University  of  Leyden,  also,  a  kind  of  interdict  was 
placed  on  the  writings  of  the  philosopher.  Annoyed 

*  CEuvres,  t.  vi,  p.  238. 
f  (Euvres,  t.  ix,  p.  416. 


LIFE    AND    WRITINGS.  13 

and  disturbed  by  frequent  and  unreasonable  opposi- 
tion, he  thought  Holland  no  longer  safe,  and  made  up 
his  mind  to  return  to  his  own  country.  Not  long 
after  he  received  from  the  Queen  of  Sweden  an  in- 
vitation to  visit  Stockholm.  Queen  Christina  had 
become  interested  in  the  philosophy  of  Descartes, 
through  his  personal  friend  Chanut,  who  was  then 
French  ambassador  at  the  court  of  Sweden.  The 
queen  desired  to  meet  the  philosopher  and  to  hear 
from  his  own  lips  an  exposition  of  his  system.  Ac- 
cordingly, though  greatly  dreading  the  long  journey, 
the  strange  country,  and  the  severe  winter,  he  set  out 
for  Stockholm,  where  he  arrived  early  in  October, 
1649,  and  took  up  his  lodgings  under  the  friendly 
roof  of  Chanut,  and  in  November  began  to  instruct 
the  queen  in  philosophy.  But  the  requirements  of 
royalty  did  not  suit  the  habits  of  the  philosopher. 
Since  the  early  days  at  the  college  of  La  Fleche,  Des- 
cartes had  been  accustomed  to  lie  in  bed  until  the 
middle  of  the  forenoon.  The  practice,  at  first  per- 
mitted to  favor  a  feeble  child,  was  kept  up  in  after 
years,  because  conducive  to  undisturbed  reflection. 
It  was  most  convenient,  however,  to  his  royal  pupil  to 
meet  her  instructor  when  her  mind  was  freshest  and 
when  no  cares  of  state  would  interrupt  her  lesson. 
Accordingly  Descartes  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  pal- 
ace every  morning  at  five  o'clock.  The  winter  was  un- 
usually severe,  and  the  frail  constitution  of  the  phi- 
losopher succumbed  to  it.  He  died  of  inflammation 
of  the  lungs,  February  n,  1650,  before  he  had  com- 
pleted his  fifty-fourth  year.  The  queen,  in  her  grief, 
would  have  buried  him  among  kings  and  raised  a 
mausoleum  for  him.  But  Chanut  prevailed  on  her  to 
allow  the  remains  to  be  placed  in  the  Catholic  ceme- 


14  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

tery  with  simple  rites.  "  A  priest,  some  torches,  and 
four  persons  of  distinction  who  stood  at  the  head  and 
foot  of  the  coffin — such  was  the  funeral  of  Descartes. 
M.  de  Chanut,  in  honor  of  the  memory  of  his  friend 
and  of  a  great  man,  raised  over  his  grave  a  square  pyra- 
mid with  inscriptions.  Holland,  where  he  had  been 
persecuted  during  his  life,  caused  a  medal  to  be  struck 
in  his  honor  when  he  was  dead.  Sixteen  years  after — 
that  is  to  say  in  1666 — his  remains  were  transported 
to  France,  and  deposited  in  the  church  of  Ste.  Gene- 
vieve.  On  the  24th  of  June,  1667,  a  solemn  service 
was  performed  for  him  with  the  greatest  magnificence. 
After  the  service  a  funeral  oration  was  to  have  been 
delivered,  but  there  came  an  express  order  from  the 
court  forbidding  it."*  His  name  had  stood  for  some 
years  upon  the  Index. 

*  Thomas,  Notes  sur  l'£loge.     (Euvres,  t.  i,  p.  116. 


-THE    PHILOSOPHY  OF    DESCARTES 
AND    ITS    INFLUENCE. 

THE  thinking  of  Descartes,  by  general  consent, 
marks  the  beginning  of  modern  speculative  philosophy. 
If  originality  be  a  test  of  intellectual  greatness,  there 
are  but  few  thinkers  in  ancient  or  modern  times  who 
can  be  placed  alongside  of  this  remarkable  man.  The 
seclusion  in  which  Descartes  sought  steadfastly  to 
spend  his  days  was  merely  intended  to  promote  the 
deeper  seclusion  of  his  intellectual  life.  He  desired  a 
first  free  look  at  the  world,  without  and  within,  unin- 
fluenced by  the  present,  untrammeled  by  the  past. 
Of  course  it  was  a  vain  desire.  From  the  past  came 
down  to  him  the  problems  which  still  awaited  solution, 
and  the  particular  form  in  which  they  presented  them- 
selves was  determined  by  the  times  in  which  he  lived. 
The  very  discipline  in  the  course  of  which  he  became 
aware  of  them,  and  by  which  his  mind  was  prepared  to 
deal  with  them,  precluded  a  purely  individual  result, 
nor  would  such  a  result,  if  attainable,  have  been  of 
great  value.  Pure,  absolute  originality  in  thought  is 
no  more  possible  than  abstract  individuality  of  exist- 
ence. What  Descartes  says  of  himself  was  therefore 
not  quite  true,  that  had  his  father  given  him  no  educa- 
tion, he  should  have  written  the  same  works,  only  he 
should  have  written  all  in  French.  It  is  safe  to  say 
that,  but  for  that  scholastic  training,  he  would  have 
written  nothing  of  account,  and  his  name  would  not 


l6  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

have  survived  the  century  in  which  he  lived.  For  the 
studies  which  absorbed  his  eager  mind  at  the  college 
of  La  Fleche  brought  to  his  attention  the  deepest  prob- 
lems of  existence  and  determined  him  to  that  lonely 
career  the  single  object  of  which  was  to  solve  them. 
And  with  such  originality  and  independence  as  is 
compatible  with  that  organic  connection  with  other 
minds,  whereby  the  thought  of  all  becomes  the  thought 
of  each,  the  solitary  thinker  addressed  himself  to  his 
task,  and  the  sustained  effort  of  more  than  twenty 
years,  with  scarcely  a  break,  marks  the  strength  of  the 
original  impulse.  Much  of  his  thinking,  after  two 
centuries  and  a  half  of  scientific  progress,  has  now  be- 
come obsolete  ;  much  still  remains  an  imperishable 
addition  to  the  sum  of  human  philosophy. 

Let  us  attempt  a  somewhat  free  reproduction  of  his 
thought.  In  the  endeavor  to  arrive  at  a  true  conception 
of  the  philosophical  system  of  Descartes,  the  fact  of  his 
early  predilection  for  mathematics  must  not  be  over- 
looked. The  influence  of  those  youthful  studies,  in  a 
branch  of  knowledge  to  which  he  was  himself  destined 
to  make  a  very  important  addition,  survived  through 
all,  and  determined  his  whole  intellectual  scheme. 
"  Chiefly  I  loved  the  mathematics  ;  I  was  surprised  that 
upon  foundations  so  solid  and  stable  no  loftier  structure 
had  been  raised."  The  necessary  sequence  of  intui- 
tions in  the  demonstrations  of  geometry,  wherein  the 
mind,  starting  from  the  simplest  truths,  arrives  by  such 
successive  intuitions  at  the  knowledge  of  all  that  can  be 
known  of  the  relations  of  figures  in  space,  presented 
itself  to  the  mind  of  Descartes  as  the  type  of  all 
human  knowledge  whatever.  He  looked  upon  knowl- 
edge as  one  interconnected  whole,  each  special  science 
being  a  member  of  it,  so  related  to  all  the  rest  that  it 


DESCARTES'  PHILOSOPHY — ITS  INFLUENCE.       17 

is  easier  to  learn  all  than  to  learn  any  one  detached 
from  the  whole.  Hence  is  suggested  a  sort  of  uni- 
versal mathematics,  or  mathesis,  which  is  Descartes' 
Novum  Organ um.  This  view  of  the  nature  of  the  ob- 
ject and  the  process  of  human  cognition  is  fully  un- 
folded in  the  early  and  little  known  "  Rules  for  the 
Direction  of  the  Mind,"  a  treatise  of  much  greater  im- 
portance than  the  Discourse  on  Method  for  the  right 
comprehension  of  Descartes'  theory  of  knowledge.* 
The  mathematical  sciences  furnished  also  a  universal 
rule  of  certainty.  The  mind  of  Descartes  sought 
clearness  as  the  first  requisite  in  all  satisfactory  think- 

\  ing.     Geometry  affords  clear   conceptions.      Indeed 
that  only  which  can  be  clearly  and  distinctly  conceived 

i  is  to  be  admitted  as  true  in  the  mathematics  gener- 
ally. 

This  principle  seemed  to  Descartes  worthy  to  be 

i  made  the  universal  rule  for  thought.     "  Only  that — 

i  not  in  mathematics  alone,  but  everywhere — which  can 
be  clearly  and  distinctly  conceived,  is  true."  (Absence 
of  contradiction  is  the  negative  test  of  clearness, 
hence  the  logical  law  of  non-contradiction  as  the 
reverse  side  of  the  principle.)  But  the  principle  it- 
self, like  the  science  of  mathematics,  from  whence  by 
generalization  it  was  derived,  belongs  only  to  the 
sphere  of  abstract  thought.  It  affords  a  criterion  of 
the  true,  but  stands  for  no  concrete  reality.  Philos- 
ophy is  the  science  of  being  ;  Descartes,  with  his 
mathematical  rule  of  certainty,  becomes  interested  in 
philosophy.  What  he  finds  existing  as  such  does  not 
satisfy  him.  He  cannot  "  clearly  and  distinctly  con- 
ceive" it.  He  therefore  rejects  it  all.  He  goes 
further  ;  on  reflection  he  finds  that  he  has  from  child- 
*  See  extract  from  Rule  II,  below,  p.  63. 


l8  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

hood  received  into  his  mind  innumerable  beliefs 
which  will  not  stand  the  proposed  test.  They  are 
worthless  to  the  thinker,  who  desires  only  absolute 
truths  perceived  to  be  such.  He  will  make  a  clean 
sweep  of  them.  He  will  begin  his  thinking  all  over 
again,  in  the  light  of  the  new  principle.  He  will 
make  a  clear  space  and  wait  to  see  what  will  ap- 
pear. But  the  space  is  not  clear,  nor  can  it  be,  for 
he  is  himself  there  in  the  middle  of  it  awaiting  the  dis- 
closure ;  but  that  is  precisely  what  the  disclosure  is : 
Je  pense,  done  je  suis.  Myself  the  thinker  am  a 
reality.  My  own  existence  in  the  act  of  thinking  is  as 
clearly  and  distinctly  known  to  me  as  any  truth  of 
mathematics  can  be.  This  truth  is  itself  a  type  of 
certainty.  Whatever  hereafter,  and  only  that  which, 
is  as  certainly  and  distinctly  conceived  by  me  as  my 
own  being  is,  shall  be  admitted  as  real.  Descartes' 
thinking  begins  with  abstract  thought,  mathematics  ; 
thence  he  derives  his  fundamental  rule  of  certainty  ; 
but  in  the  application  of  it  he  arrives  at  a  concrete 
truth,  the  being  of  the  individual  thinker.  He 
reaches  thus  a  new  starting-point,  and  one  of  cardinal 
importance  for  all  succeeding  philosophy.  Philo- 
sophical speculation  thereafter  must  turn  on  the  ego, 
which  Descartes  thus  made  the  pivot  of  his  own 
thinking  concerning  real  existence.  But  the  self  thus 
discovered  and  inexpugnable,  undeniably  existent, 
is  only  myself.  Are  there  possibly  other  selves, 
finite  like  me,  an  infinite  Self  also  above  all  ?  Des- 
cartes soon  satisfies  himself  of  the  necessary  existence 
of  the  latter,  the  original  Self.  But  there  is  a  little 
preliminary  parade  of  skeptical  skill.  How  do  I 
know,  after  all,  that  in  my  clearest  thought  I  am  not 
deceived  ;  might  not  some  powerful  being  so  control 


DESCARTES'  PHILOSOPHY — ITS  INFLUENCE.       19 

^  my  mental  process  as  to  make  me  take  the  false  for 
true ;  well,  even  then,  I  should  still  be  thinking, 
though  thinking  I  was  deceived  ;  and  if  I  was  thinking 
no  matter  what,  I  should  be  existing.  But  among 
my_thoughts  there  is  one  which  cannot  have  come' 
from  myself — the  thought  of  infinite  perfection.  I 
am  consciously  finite,  imperfect,  yet  this  thought  of 
infinite  perfection  is  undeniably  within  me  ;  according 
to  the  principle  De  nihilo  nihil  it  must  have  a  cause. 
There  is  no  adequate  cause  for  this  thought  but  the 
Keing^wHo~Ts^actually  infinite  in  perfection — such  a 
Being  Then  must  have  put  this  thought  within  me. 
Such  a  Being  must  as  certainly  exist  as  I  myself  do, 
from  whom  other  and  finite  thoughts  proceed.  More- 
over,  as  Augustine,  and  AnsHm  have  argued,  the  idea 
of  the  Infinite  Being  is  proof  of  the  existence^oLsjicJLa 
Being,  for  this  i3ea~  contains  exisience..as_a  Jiecessary 
predicate.  Descartes  makes  use  of  the  common 
ontological  arguments  to  support  his  own,  while  at 
the  same  time  he  contends  that  his  own  is  entirely 
distinct.  And  indeed  it  is,  in  one  form  of  it,  that 
where  he  employs  the  principle  of  causality,  as  above 
indicated.  The  effect  cannot  transcend  the  cause  ; 
but  if  God  jiid  not  exist,  the  presence^of  the  idea  of 
infinite  perfection  within  a  finite  consciousness  would 
be  inexplicable  ;  the  effect  would  transcend  the 
cause.  But  such  a  Being  cannot  deceive.  To  im- 
agine that  he  could  do  so  would  be  to  suppose  some- 
thing contradictory.  Now  the  discovery  of  the 
divine  existence  is  one  of  the  highest  philosophical 
importance,  for  it  makes  indubitable  the  rule  of 
certainty  assumed  at  the  outset,  "  whatever  I  clearly 
and  distinctly  conceive  is  true."  It  cannot  be  that 
~ He  who  is  absolute  truth  and  the  source  of  my  being 


20  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

should  have  made  me  so  that  in  obeying  the  laws  of 
my  mind  I  should  go  astray. 

Descartes  has,  as  appears,  three  distinct  principles 
of  certainty  ;  viz.,  i.  Whatever  is  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly conceived  is  true,  the  type  of  which  is  mathe- 
matical intuition  ;  2.  Whatever  is  known  as  clearly 
and  distinctly  as  my  own  being  is  real  ;  3.  The 
Divine  veracity.  Which  of  these  is  fundamental  to  the 
other  two  ?  It  is  difficult  to  say.  Apparently  he  re- 
gards  the  last  as  the  basis  of  all.* 

In  addition,  it  is  to  be  observed,  he  employs  the  log- 
ical principle  of  non-contradiction  in  connection  with 
his  first  rule,  and  the  real  principle  of  causality,  in 
establishing  the  being  of  God. 

Assured  of  the  existence  of  God  as  creator  and  pre- 
server (and  preservation,  for  him,  is  continued  creation) 
of  his  own  finite  existence,  Descartes  now  inquires 
whether  there  may  not  reasonably  be  supposed  to  exist 
other  finite  beings  like  himself,  as  well  as  what  in 
general  he  has  hitherto  assumed  to  be  an  external  world. 
In  regard  to  these  he  speedily  assures  himself  that  he 
has  not  been  deceived.  The  way  is  thus  open  to 
determine  the  inner  reality  and  the  laws  of  the  world 
of  nature  and  of  spirit.  The  objects  of  our  knowledge 
are  things,  and  their  affections,  and  eternal  truths,  which 
latter  exist  for  thought  only.  Among  the  eternal 
verities  are  to  be  reckoned  the  law  of  causality  (ex 
nihilo  «//«'/),  of  non-contradiction,  and  the  necessary 
existence  of  the  thinking  self.  Of  things  there  are 
two  classes,  minds  and  bodies  ;  more  strictly,  thinking 
substances  and  extended  substances,  since  thought  is 
the  essence  of  mind,  extension,  of  body.  Substance 
is  that  which  so  exists  that  it  needs  nothing  else  for  its 
*  See  close  of  Fifth  Meditation. 


DESCARTES     PHILOSOPHY — ITS    INFLUENCE.         21 

existence.  Only  one  such  substance  can  be  conceived, 
/.  <?.,  God.  But  in  a  modified  sense  we  may  speak  of 
things  created  as  substances,  requiring  the  aid  of  God 
(concur 'sus  Dei)  for  their  existence.  Each  form  of 
substance  has  its  preeminent  attribute  from  which  all 
others,  its  modes,  derive  ;  viz.,  from  thought,  which  is 
the  essence  of  mind,  imagination,  sensation,  will  ;  from  ,.  _ 
extension,  which  is  the  essence  of  body,  figure  and 
motion.  Extension  and  thought,  body  and  mind,  are 
mutually  opposed  and  exclusive,  each  being  substance, 
or  essential  attribute  of  different  substances.  Thought 
is  purely  internal,  extension  is  wholly  external.  There 
is  no  community  or  analogy  between  them.  In  man, 
composed  of  body  and  mind,  the  two  opposed  sub- 
stances are  united  as  closely  as  possible,  yet  are  wholly 

distinct.     The  whole  material  world  consists  only  of 

J 

extension  and  its  modes,  figure  and  motion.  No  atoms 
exist,  nor  has  the  world  limits.  Matter,  as  extension, 
has  only  the  capacity  of  being  formed  and  moved  ;  t 
actual  form  and  motion  must  come  from  another 
source,  viz.,  from  the  Being  who  is  the  ultimate  ground  ^ 
of  extension.  In  the  beginning  God  divided  matter 
into  innumerable  parts  of  various  sizes  and  forms,  and 
set  them  moving  in  all  directions,  whence  at  last 
arose  the  world.  God  had  his  own  ends  in  view  in 
the  formation  of  the  world,  but  it  is  presumptuous  for  v  ^ 
the  human  mind  to  try  to  discover  them.  Final  causes 
are  excluded  from  philosophy.*  The  whole  explanation 
of  the  material  world  is  mechanical  and  mathema- 
tical. Matter  in  motion  brings  about  everything. 
The  universe  is  absolutely  full  :  there  is  no  vacuum  ; 
hence,  when  once  set  in  motion,  the  particles  move 

*  Descartes,  however,  in  his  explanation  of  the  body,  makes  use 
of  the  principle  of  design. 


22  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

in  a  circular  manner,  each  pressing  into  the  place 
left  by  another.  The  vortices  thus  arising  explain 
the  revolution  of  the  planets  and  the  gravitation  of 
bodies  to  their  centers.  Light  and  heat  are  explained 
by  the  vibratory  movement  of  the  most  subtle  form  of 
matter — the  first  element ;  besides  which  are  the  sec- 
ond, the  element  of  air,  and  the  third,  the  element  of 
earth,  of  which  the  planets  are  formed.  In  the  organic 
world,  the  mechanical  explanation  is  still  retained. 
Plants  and  animals  are  mere  machines.  The  animal 
>,-•  soul  is  the  _blood,  the  circulation  of  which  constitutes 
life.  The  blood,  filtered  by  the  brain,  becomes  the 
animal  spirits.  Iii  man,  who  is  undemably  at  once 
body  and  soul,  thejwo  opposed  substan£es^,spirit_and 
matter,  thought  and  extension,  are  intimatelyj^oniqined . 

AlTHxpTanatinn   of    qprh    linirm  _ig-..frmnH    in  tUo  pn-innl 

gland,  or  the  conariuin,  which,  being  the  onl¥.I?.aj±Qilhe 
brain  which  ^single  and. the ....spot  where. the  animal 
spirits  meet,  may  h<»  ?wtnmeH  fro  hp--fcbfe-&gai-  of  thfi_ 
_  soulJj'  and  its  organ  of  communication  with  the  body.- 
it  as  t hgjJghjLjuid,  . ejtie_Q5LQ.n  ..are^rnutualLy-^xcJiisive 
in  their  nature,  their  connection  in  the  brain  must  be  re- 
gard e d  as"su,peinAtM^UjyMkd^bj_God.  Sensations 
from  impressions  on  the  sense  organs  there  exist  as  per- 
ceptions, and  thence  volitions  are  transmitted  through 
the  nerves  to  the  muscles,  whence  bodily  movements 
arise.  The  passions  are  explained  as  due  to  ideas 
strengthened  by  the  action  of  the  animal  spirits  forcing 
their  way  to  the  heart  through  the  pores  of  the  brain 
and  the  rest  of  the  body,  the  result  being  a  confused 
but  vivid  state  of  feeling.  The  passions,  like  the  ideas, 
are  theoretical  and  practical.  All  are  to  be  deduced 
from  six  primary  ones,  viz.,  wonder,  love,  hate,  desire, 
*  See  below,  Treatise  on  Man,  and  Passions. 


DESCARTES     PHILOSOPHY—  ITS    INFLUENCE.         23 

joy,  and  sadness,  the  most  inTpoj:taiiluaLjlhich_J^the 
first,  wonder,  which  is  purely  theoretical  ;  the  remaining 
live  are  practical,  being  accompanied  by  a  tendency  to 
bodily  motions.  The  most  perfect  of  all  the  passions 
is  intellectual  love  of  God.  All  moral  action  consists 
in  mastery  of  the  passions,  and  this  is  the  secret  of  a 
happy  life.  The  passions  partake  of  the  body,  ideas 
are  of  the  mind  only  —  pure  thought.  Mind,  as  such, 
alwjiys  thinks.  In  the  human  mind  ideas  differ  as  re- 
"spects  clearness  and  origin.  As  respects  clearness,  they 
are  adequate  or  inadequate  ;  in  origin,  they  are  formed 
by  the  action  of  the  individual  mind,  or  borrowed,  ad- 
ventitious, or  innate.  The  innate__ideas_are  simply 
thought  itself,  thp.jnkjm£j^_i([pn£_o_f  things" 


from  the  nature  of  the  human  mind;  thus,  also,  the  (/,  •>•.. 

Idea  "of  God  .and  of  .  .ourselves--  is  -innate,  ~  «QLllie_ad-  " 
ventitious  ideas,  to  which  belong  sensuous  perceptions, 

"  musr'be  distinguished  those  which  correspond  with 
modes  of  external  things  and  those  which  are  simply 
modes  of  thought,  belonging  only  to  the  subject  mind. 
such  as  time  and  color,  sound,  taste.  Of  ideas  fashioned 
by  ourselves,  such  as  the  siren,  the  centaur,  these  are 
pure  inventions,  having  no  external  objects  correspond- 
ing to  them.  In  any  idea  regarded  simply  as  a  rep- 
resentation, there  is  neither  truth  nor  error.  Truth  and 
error  arise  with  judgments,  and  judgments  are  a  com- 
bination of  intellect  and  will.  Error  comes  from  not 
withholding  the  judgment  till  clear  and  distinct  intui- 
tion is  gained,  for  the  Divine  veracity  is  pledged 
that  every  clear  and  distinct  perception  shall  be  true. 
The  Divine  mind  is  free  from  error  because  it  has  no 
inadequate  ideas.  God's  will  is  not  like  man's,  condi- 
tioned on  intelligence  ;  rather  the  reverse  is  true.  The 
Divine  will  establishes  even  the  eternal  verities  and 


24  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

the  nature  of  good  itself.  The  will  of  God  must  be 
conceived  of  as  absolutely  free  from  the  control  of 
necessity.  The  human  will  is  most  free  when  most 
subject  to  the  determination  of  the  intellect.  The 
highest  freedom  is  not  indifference,  but  perfection  in 
truth  and  character. 

Such,  in  brief  statement,  are  the  main  features  of 
Descartes'  philosophy. 

Like  every  epoch-making  system,  that  of  Descartes 
contained  within  itself  the  germs  of  others,  and  of 
systems  opposed  to  it  and  to  each  other.  Descartes' 
own  system  was  an  unresolved  dualism.  It  contained 
the  principles  of  materialism,  of  subjective  idealism, 
and  of  pantheism.  There  can  even  be  seen,  in  one 
or  two  passages,  a  fugitive  fore-gleam  of  the  critical 
philosophy  of  Kant. 

We  must  notice  briefly  the  influence  of  this  system 
on  succeeding  thought.  Descartes,  like  all  great 
original  thinkers,  had  disciples  whose  simple  aim  was 
to  communicate  and  expound  the  system  unchanged. 
The  new  philosophy  found  acceptance  at  the  univer- 
sities in  the  Netherlands.  It  was  taught  at  Leyden,  at 
Utrecht,  at  Groningen,  and  at  Franeker.  At  the  same 
time  the  system  was  violently  attacked.  It  was  found 
to  be  in  conflict  with  the  Bible,  and  theological  con- 
troversy waxed  warm.  The  motion  of  the  earth  and  / 
the  infinity  of  the  universe  did  not  accord  with  eccle- 
siastical opinion,  nor  with  the  prevailing  interpretation 
of  the  Scriptures.  Cartesian  theologians  in  defense 
advocated  an  allegorical  explanation  of  biblical  lan- 
guage. The  doctrine  had  already  been  condemned 
by  the  Synod  of  Dort  (1656),  and  in  the  following 
year  by  that  of  Deift.  It  aroused  the  opposition  of 
the  Roman  Church  also,  and  the  "  Meditations  "  were 


DESCARTES     PHILOSOPHY — ITS   INFLUENCE.         25 

placed  upon  the  "  Index  librorum  prohibitorum" — 
"donee  corrigantur"  And,  in  consequence,  in  after 
years  even  the  dead  body  of  the  philosopher  was  at 
first  refused  interment  in  a  church  in  Paris,  and  al- 
though this  was  finally  allowed,  funeral  ceremonies 
and  the  erection  of  a  monument  were  forbidden.  The 
reigning  monarch,  Louis  XIV.,  in  league  with  the  Jes- 
uits, interdicted  the  teaching  of  the  Cartesian  doctrine 
in  the  universities,  and  indeed  throughout  France. 
This  opposition  was  perhaps  mainly  due  to  the  fact 
that  the  Jansenists  had  adopted  Cartesianism.  But  it 
was  occasioned  also  by  the  conflict  between  the  meta- 
physical theory  of  Descartes,  that  the  essence  of  body 
is  extension,  and  the  church  doctrine  of  the  real  pres- 
ence of  Christ  in  the  sacrament.  The  same  body 
cannot  exist  in  different  spaces  at  once  ;  transubstan- 
tiation  cannot  therefore  be  true.  Both  the  Jansenist 
Arnauld*  and  the  Jesuit  Mesland  f  had  urged  this 
conflict  with  the  Eucharistic  doctrine  of  the  philoso- 
pher's teaching  concerning  body  and  its  extension, 
and  Descartes  had  replied  to  their  objections.  But 
while  the  system  had  to  encounter  the  hostility  of  the 
theologians  of  the  day,  both  Catholic  and  Protestant, 
it  found  ready  acceptance  with  those  who  cultivated 
literature  in  that  most  brilliant  age.  The  new  and 
striking  views,  the  beautiful  method,  the  charming 
lucidity  of  presentation,  made  a  profound  impression 
upon  the  French  mind;  they  took  powerful  hold  of  the 
foremost  writers  in  prose  and  poetry,  and  thus  contrib- 
uted greatly  to  the  formation  of  the  classic  style. 
Cartesianism  became  the  literary  fashion.  It  was  cul- 

*  (Euvres,  t.   ii,   p.   35,  Arnauld's  objection  ;  t.  ii,  p.  78,  Des- 
cartes' reply. 

\  (Euvres,  t.  ix,  pp.  172  and  192,  replies  to  Mesland. 


26  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES. 

tivated  by  ladies  and  adopted  by  society.  Accordingly 
it  soon  was  made  a  target  for  the  wits  of  the  day,  as 
the  "  Femmes  Savantes "  of  Moliere  bears  witness, 
and  later  the  Jesuit  Daniel's  "  Voyage  du  monde  de 
Descartes."  * 

The  first  important  step  in  the  development  of  the 
Cartesian  doctrine  was  taken  in  the  theory  of  occa- 
sionalism by  Arnold  Geulincx  (1625-1669),  professor 
of  philosophy  at  Leyden.  He  assumed  as  an  axiom 
that  an  efficient  cause  must  be  conscious  not  only  of  <•_ 
the  effect  but  of  the  mode  of  its  production. •(•  hnpos- 
sibile  est  ut  is  faciat  qui  nescit  quomodo  fiat.  Exten- 
sion and  motion  have  no  relation  to  thought  or  sen- 
sation in  the  way  of  causation.  Body  cannot  act  up- 
on mind,  volition  cannot  originate  motion,  because 
he  who  wills  knows  not  how  his  volition  acts  on  his 
brain,  nerves,  and  muscles.  Hence  there  can  be  no 
reciprocal  action  of  soul  and  body,  and  God  alone  is  — 
the  efficient  cause  of  all  that  happens.  God  has  so 
connected  these  most  opposed  things,  the  motion  of 
matter  and  the  volition  of  the  will,  that  when  a  volition 
arises  the  appropriate  motion  occurs,  and  vice  versa, 
there  being  no  causal  connection  between  the  two  ;  but 
God  himself,  on  occasion  of  the  one,  produces  the  other.  ' 
PhilaretusJ  (pseudonym),  the  editor  of  the  Ethics 
of  Geulincx,  to  make  this  correspondence  intelligible, 
employs  the  illustration  of  the  two  clocks,  which  Leib- 

*  See  Bouillier,  "  Histoire  de  la  Philosophic  Cari&ienne,"  t.   i, 

P.  425- 

A  Latin  version  of  Daniel's  book  exists,  "  Her  per  Mundum  Car- 
tesii."  Amsterdam,  1694. 

f  Bouillier,  t.  i,  p.  286. 

\  Bontekoe.  See  Erdmann,  Hist,  of  Philos.  Modern,  pp.  29,  30, 
trans. 


DESCARTES'  PHILOSOPHY — ITS  INFLUENCE.       27 

^ jiitz   afterward  uses  in  the  explanation  of  his  own 

theory. 

Pere  Nicholas  Malebranche  (1638-1 7 15),  of  the  Ora- 
tory of  Jesus  in  Paris,  a  profound  theologian  of  the 
Augustinian  type,  and  an  enthusiastic  disciple  of  Des- 
cartes, applied  the  principles  of  the  latter  to  the  solu- 
tion of  the  problem  of  knowledge.  He  accepted  the 
doctrine  of  the  two  mutually  opposed  substances,  body 
and  mind,  /'.  e.,  extension  and  thought,  between  which 
there  can  be  no  reciprocal  influence  (influxus physicu$\ 
and  adopted  Occasionalism,  whether  as  influenced  by 
Geulincx,  or  as  the  necessary  consequence  of  dualism. 
The  special  problem  was  to  show  the  possibility  of  a 

^  knowledge  of  matter  by  mind,  there  being  no  natural 
community,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  most  complete 
opposition,  between  the  two.  Like  Geulincx  in  ex- 
plaining action,  Malebranche,  in  explaining  knowledge, 
is  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  the  third,  and  indeed, 
strictly  speaking,  /.  e.,  according  to  the  definition,  only 
true  substance,  God.  Accordingly,  Malebranche  says 
God  is  the  place  of  spirits  ;  we  see  things  in  God.  "  God 
is  through  his  presence  so  closely  united  with  our  souls 
that  we  can  say  that  he  is  the  place  of  minds,  exactly  as 
space  is  the  place  of  bodies."  *  Bodies,  which  are 
modifications  of  extension,  are  knowable  only  through 
ideas ;  they  exist,  therefore,  in  the  only  form  in  which 
we  can  know  them,  in  God  alone,  who  is  the  universal 
reason,  the  intelligible  world,  the  intelligible,  that  is  to 
us  the  only  real,  extension.  That  which  we  see  in  God, 
then,  is  not  external  things  themselves,  but  the  ideas 
of  things,  the  intelligible  world.  Not  only  these  ideas, 
but  our  sensations  and  our  volitions,  are  produced  in 

*  Recherche,  liv.  iii,  pt.  ii,  ch.  vi.     Kuno   Fischer,  Descartes 

and  his  School,  p.  578,  trans. 


28  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

us  by  God  alone.  Hence  not  only  the  idealism  but 
the  pantheistic  tendency  of  the  system  of  Male- 
branche. 

Baruch  (Benedictus)  de  Spinoza  (born  in  Amsterdam, 
1632,  died  at  The  Hague,  1677),  made  the  philosophy 
of  Descartes  his  starting-point  and  completely  trans- 
formed its  dualism  into  a  monism,  in  which  God  is 
declared  to  be  the  one  sole  substance  (Substantia  una 
et  unica).  Spinoza  adopted  from  Descartes  the  math- 
ematical way  of  looking  at  things.  Philosophical  and 
mathematical  certainty  are  identical  with  him.  Like 
Descartes,  therefore,  he  totally  excludes  final  causes, 
but  with  more  emphatic  protest,  and  not  only  from 
physics  but  from  ethics.  Efficient  causation  he  also 
denies.  Mathematics  (philosophy,  therefore)  knows 
nothing  of  causes,  but  only  of  reasons,  nothing  of 
effects,  but  only  of  consequents.*  The  method  of 
presentation  is  mathematical.  Of  this,  also,  an  ex- 
ample had  been  given  in  Descartes,  who,  in  what  he 
calls  his  synthetic  demonstration  of  the  being  of  God  f 
had  presented  the  proof  /;/  more  geometrico.  The 
earliest  published  work  of  Spinoza  was  an  exposi- 
tion, in  the  mathematical  form,  of  the  principles  of 
Descartes'  philosophy,  and  the  same  form  is  employed 
in  the  Ethics,  which  is  the  chief  exponent  of  his  own 
philosophical  views.  The  fundamental  notions  in 
Spinoza's  system  are  those  of  substance,  attribute,  and 
mode.  The  whole  system  turns  on  the  definition  oj[ 
substance,  adopted  from  Descartes. \  "  By  substance 
I  understand  that  which  is  in  itself  and  is  conceived 

*  Cf.  Erdmann,  Hist,  of  Philos.  Modern,  p.  52,  trans.,  for  the 
true  meaning  of  the  term  causa  in  Spinoza's  writings. 

f  Rfyonses  anx  SJcondes  Objections.     (Euvrts,  t.  i,  pp.  451-465. 
\  Principe -s,  pie.  i,  §  51. 


DESCARTES'  PHILOSOPHY — ITS  INFLUENCE.       29 

•  through  itself ;  that  is,  that  the  conception  of  which 
;  does  not  require  the  conception  of  anything  else  from 
C^which  it  must  be  formed."  *  There  necessarily  can  ex- 
ist, then,  but  one  substance;  all  else  is  attribute  or  mode. 
The  absolute  substance  is  not  ground  of  all  being,  but 
rather  ts  all  being.  To  this  one  unconditioned,  all-in- 
clusive being,  Spinoza  assigns  the  name  God,  but  the 
name  nature  is  equally  appropriate,  hence  he  says, 
Dens sive  natura.  But  nature  may  be  natura  naturans, 
that  which  is  in  itself,  the  absolute  substance,  the  un- 
conditioned ;  or  natura  naturata,  the  modes  of  this 
absolute  substance,  the  world  as  a  whole,  or  the  sum 
total  of  conditions  of  existence,  which  are  both  but  two 
aspects  of  the  one  reality.  Attributes  appear  in 
Spinoza's  scheme  to  differ  from  modes  only  in  this, 
that  they  pertain  to  substance,  not  in  reality,  like  modes, 
but  rather  only  in  intelleclu,  in  the  view  of  finite  mind, 
which  is  itself  (however  contradictorily),  for  Spinoza, 
but  a  mode  of  infinite  substance.  Herein  Spinoza 
differs  from  Descartes,  who  taught  that  attribute 
constitutes  the  essence  of  substance  ;  apparently,  the 
difference  is  between  an  objective  and  a  subjective 
conception  of  attribute. f  The  one  substance  must 
then  be  conceived  under  the  two  attributes,  thought 
and  extension,  as  thinking  substance  and  extended 
substance,  while  in  reality  there  is  but  one  sole  sub- 
stance (Dens  sive  natura}.  This  distinction  between 
what/V  and  what  must  be ///£//£•/;/  is  suggestive  of  Tran- 
scendentalism, but  Spinoza's  position  is  not  that  of 
Kant,  but  that  of  the  dogmatist  ;  he  held,  with  Des- 
cartes, that  what  is  clearly  thought  does  not  differ 
from  what  is.  It  is  difficult  at  this  point  to  repel  the 

*  Ethics,  Def .  3. 

fCf.  Erdmann,  Hist,  of  P kilos.  Modern,  p.  67. 


30 y  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

charge  of  inconsistency,  and  the  difficulty  is  greatly  in- 
creased when  we  find  these  attributes,  which  are  af- 
firmed to  exist,  not  in  reality,  but  only  for  the  human 
understanding  as  necessary  notions,  treated  as  inde- 
pendent and  mutually  opposed  substances.  No  less 
than  Descartes,  Spinoza  strenuously  insists  that 
neither  spirit  can  act  on  matter,  nor  matter  on  spirit ; 
but  he  insists  further  that  each  is  the  other,  different 
forms  of  one  and  the  same  substance,  just  as  "  the  idea 
of  the  circle  and  the  actual  circle  are  the  same  thing, 
now  under  the  attribute  of  thought,  and  again  under 
that  of  extension."  Again,  when  explaining  the  possi- 
bility of  particular  or  individual  existence  in  a  system 
which  posits  one  sole  substance  and  affirms  omnis  de- 
terminatio  est  negatio,  Spinoza  refers  them  to  the  in- 
finite modes  of  the  one  substance  of  which,  like  waves 
of  the  sea,*  they  are  the  transient  expression,  having 
in  themselves  apart  no  reality,  and  constituting,  all 
taken  together,  a  realm  of  conditioned  existence, 
each  member  dependent  on  the  rest,  and  all  bound 
together  by  the  chain  of  necessity,  a  realm  of  ap- 
pearance, fugitive,  and,  for  pure  thought,  appear- 
ance only.  Hence  Spinoza's  acosmism. \  The  dualism 
of  Descartes  is  thus  transformed  by  Spinoza  into  an 
abstract  monism,  but  the  system  was  implicitly  con- 
tained in  Descartes'  definition  of  substance,  which 
Spinoza  takes  for  his  starting-point. 

In  precisely  the  opposite  direction,  the  first  great 
German  philosopher,  Gottfried  Wilhelm  Leibnitz 
(1646-17 16),  starting  also  from  the  notion  of  substance, 
which  he  defines,  however,  as  living  activity,  develops 
the  doctrine  of  the  plurality  of  substances.  As  with 

*  Erdmann's  comparison,  see  Hist,  of  Philos.  Modern,  p.  61. 
f  Hegel  thus  designates  the  system. 


DESCARTES     PHILOSOPHY — ITS    INFLUENCE.          31 

Spinoza,  thought  not  extension,  mind  not  matter,  is  the 
essential  form  of  being  ;  but  in  opposition  to  him,  in- 
dividuality— and,  therefore,  plurality — of  mind-sub- 
stances is  asserted.  The  universe,  physical  and  spir- 
itual, is  an  aggregate — or,  rather  hierarchy — of  such 
individual  minds,  which  Leibnitz  calls  monads.  While 
rejecting  the  position  of  Descartes  that  thought,  as 
such,  is  necessarily  conscious,  Leibnitz  retains,  and  de- 
velops into  an  essential  element  of  his  own  theory,  a  dis- 
tinction which  Descartes  had  pointed  out  in  the  nature 
;•'  of  perceptions  between  clear  and  obscure,  distinct  and 
confused.  Ail  monads  are  souls,  all  have  perceptions, 
but  not  all  have  consciousness.  Hence  the  gradation  ; 
inorganic  nature  moves,  plants  sleep,  animals  dream, 
spirits  think;  God,  the  supreme  monad,  whence  all 
radiate,  is  absolute  creative  Intelligence,  who,  being 
the  source  of  all,  knows  all  completely. 

Leibnitz,  who,  with  Descartes,  denied  (as,  indeed, 
his  own  theory  of  the  monads  required)  any  influence 
reciprocally  between  body  and  mind,  rejected  also  the 
theory  of  Occasionalism,  and  substituted  for  it  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Preestablished  Harmony,  in  illustration 
of  which  he  uses  the  comparison  of  two  clocks,  origi- 
nally  so  perfect  in  construction  that  each,  although 
entirely  independent  of  the  other,  keeps  exact  time 
with  it.* 

The  philosophy  of  Leibnitz  is  idealism,  or  spiritism, 
Descartes  had  made  the  essence  of  matter  to  consist 
in  extension  ;  Leibnitz  conceives  the  essence  of  sub- 
stance to  be  activity,  life,  mind.  The  monads  are 
perceptive  in  all  degrees,  from  complete  unconscious- 

*  Descartes  had  already  employed  the  illustration  of  a  single 
clock  in  explaining  the  human  body  as  a  machine. 


^2  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

ness  in  the  inorganic  world,  to  full  self-consciousness  <e* 
of  spirit   in    man   and  deity.     Individualism  has  re- 
placed monism.     Each  monad  is  isolated  and  indepen- 
dent of  the  rest.     Each  is  living  substance,  or  soul,   /— 
and  the  monads  are  innumerable.     In  place  of  the  one 
substance  of  Spinoza  (and  virtually  of  Malebranche), 
instead  of  the  two  opposed  substances  of  Descartes, 
we  have,  then,  in  Leibnitz,  an  indefinitely  great  number 
of  substances,  alike  in  being  souls,  but  unlike  in  the  \ 
degree  of  participation  in  psychical  life.     In  place  of 
occasionalism  we   have   the   eternally  preestablished 
harmony,  through  which,  out  of  isolated  monads,  a 
universe  becomes  possible.* 

The  theory  of  knowledge  connects  Leibnitz  with 
Locke,  whose  doctrine  of  empiricism  he  opposed. 
John  Locke  (1632-1704)  interested  himself  as  a  philos- 
opher in  the  problem  of  knowledge.  Innate  ideas, 
adventitious  ideas,  and  fictitious  ideas  was  the  classifi- 
cation Descartes  had  made  of  the  ideas  of  the  mind  ; 
teaching,  at  the  same  time,  that  to  have  an  idea  the 
mind  must  be  conscious  of  having  it.  Locke  easily 
made  it  appear  that,  with  this  condition,  there  could  be 
no  innate  ideas,  and  that  the  human  mind  was  in  pos- 
session only  of  the  adventitious  ideas,  or  those  derived 
from  other  sources  than  the  thinking  faculty  itself, 
which  sources  Locke  found  to  be  two,  sensation  and 
reflection,  i.  e.,  outer  and  inner  sense.  The  thinking 
faculty  is,  prior  to  experience,  a  tabula  rasa.  Hence 
the  theory  of  knowledge  is  that  of  pure  empiricism. 

The  further  development  of  Locke's  empiricism 
into  the  philosophical  skepticism  of  Hume,  the  sub- 

*  In  his  Theodicee  Leibnitz  carries  out  the  thought  of  Descartes 
[Med.  IV]  that  the  perfection  of  the  universe  as  a  whole  requires 
the  imperfection  of  its  parts.  Cf.  Bishop  Butler,  Analogy,  ch.  vii. 


DESCARTES'  PHILOSOPHY — ITS  INFLUENCE.       33 

jective  idealism  of  Berkeley,  the  materialism  of  the 
French  Encyclopedists  and  the  Systeme  de  la  Nature, 
it  is  not  necessary  here  to  trace.  It  may  be  re- 
marked, however,  that  the  skepticism  of  Hume  recalls, 
by  contrast,  the  provisional  doubting  of  all  things 
by  Descartes,  that  the  idealism  of  Berkeley  was 
already  suggested  in  the  Je  pense,  done  je  suis  j  and 
that  the  French  materialistic  movement  renews 
the  first  great  French  philosopher's  attempt  to 
resolve  all  bodily  life  into  mechanism  and  motion. 
Leibnitz,  by  his  doctrine  of  unconscious  mental  ac- 
tivity, in  opposition  to  Descartes'  limitation  of  mind 
to  consciousness,  was  able  to  give  its  true  significance 
to  the  theory  of  the  innate  ideas  (the  i'vvoiai  ideal 
of  the  Greeks),  and  thus,  by  giving  emphasis  to  the 
intellectual  principles,  as  Locke  to  the  empirical 
element,  opened  the  path  to  a  reconstruction  of 
philosophy  at  the  hands  of  Kant,  who,  partly  in  op- 
position to,  partly  in  agreement  with,  dogmatism  on 
the  one  hand,  and  empiricism  on  the  other,  but 
mainly  by  introducing  the  new  method  and  principle 
of  criticism,  brought  in  a  new  epoch  and  changed 
thereafter  the  whole  aspect  of  philosophy. 

It  would  be  entirely  incorrect  to  say  that  Des- 
cartes had  forestalled  Kant,  or  that  the  principles 
of  the  critical  philosophy  are  contained  in  the  Med- 
itations, or  the  Principles,  of  the  great  French 
thinker,  yet  there  are  interesting  passages  in  the 
Rules  for  the  Direction  of  the  Mind,  and  in  the 
Principles  also,  which  show  that  he  was  fully  aware 
of  the  fundamental  importance  of  the  problem  of  the 
nature  of  cognition  itself,  and  states  that  problem 


34  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

almost  in  the  very  language  of  Kant,*  while  in  his 
doctrine  of  space  and  time,  but  particularly  of  the 
latter,  which  he  regards  as  nothing  more  than  a 
modus  cogitandi,  he  reminds  the  reader  of  the  famous 
exposition  in  the  Transcendental  ^Esthetic  of  the 
Critique  of  Pure  Reason. 

*See  Kuno  Fischer,  Descartes  and  his  School,  p.  495,  trans. 


THE  SELECTIONS. 

THE  DISCOURSE  UPON  METHOD, 

PARTS  I,  II,  III. 


35 


THE  DISCOURSE   UPON   METHOD.* 

PART    FIRST. 

....  My  design  is  not  to  point  out  the  method 
which  everyone  must  follow  for  the  right  direction  of 
his  understanding,  but  merely  to  show  how  I  have 
attempted  to  conduct  my  own.  Those  who  take  it 
upon  themselves  to  give  precepts  to  others  must 
assume  that  they  are  themselves  better  instructed 
than  those  to  whom  they  give  them,  and  if  they  make 
the  least  error,  they  are  answerable  for  it.  But  as  I 
offer  this  production  merely  as  a  piece  of  personal 
history,  or  of  fiction,  if  you  please,  in  which,  among 
some  examples  which  may  well  be  imitated,  there 
will  be  found,  perhaps,  many  others  also  which  one 
might  reasonably  decline  to  follow,  I  hope  that  it 
may  prove  useful  to  some  and  harmful  to  none,  and 
that  all  will  take  my  frankness  kindly. 

I  was  brought  up  to  letters  from  my  childhood,  and 
because  I  was  led  to  believe  that  by  means  of  them 
clear  and  certain  knowledge  of  all  that  was  useful  in 
life  might  be  acquired,  I  had  an  extreme  desire  for 
learning.  But  no  sooner  had  I  completed  the  whole 
course  of  studies  at  the  end  of  which  it  is  customary 
for  one  to  be  received  into  the  circle  of  the  learned, 
than  I  changed  my  opinion  entirely.  For  I  found 
myself  involved  in  so  many  doubts  and  errors,  that  it 
seemed  to  me  that  I  had  derived  no  other  advantage 

*  CEuvres,  t.  i,  p.  124. 

37 


38  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

from  my  endeavors  to  instruct  myself  but  only  to  find 
out  more  and  more  how  ignorant  I  was.  And  yet  I 
was  in  one  of  the  most  celebrated  schools  in  Europe, 
where  I  thought  there  must  be  learned  men  if  there 
were  any  such  in  the  world.  I  had  acquired  all  that 
others  learned  there,  and  more  than  that,  not  being 
content  with  the  sciences  which  were  taught  us,  I  ran 
through  all  the  books  I  could  get  hold  of  which  treated 
of  matters  considered  most  curious  and  rare.  More- 
over, I  knew  what  others  thought  about  me,  and  I  did 
not  perceive  that  they  considered  me  inferior  to  my 
fellow-students,  albeit  there  were  among  them  some 
who  were  destined  to  fill  the  places  of  our  masters. 
And  finally,  our  time  appeared  to  me  to  be  as  flourish- 
ing and  as  prolific  of  good  minds  as  any  preceding 
time  had  been.  Such  considerations  emboldened  me 
to  judge  all  others  by  myself,  and  served  to  convince 
me  that  there  did  not  exist  in  the  world  any  such  wis- 
dom as  I  had  been  led  to  hope  for.  However,  I  did 
not  cease  to  think  well  of  scholastic  pursuits.  I  knew 
that  the  languages  taught  in  the  schools  were  indis- 
pensable for  the  understanding  of  the  ancient  books  ; 
that  light  and  graceful  stories  stimulate  the  mind  ; 
that  the  memorable  deeds  of  history  exalt  it,  and 
that  when  read  with  discretion  they  help  to  form  the 
judgment  ;  that  the  reading  of  all  good  books  is  like 
conversation  with  the  noble  men  of  bygone  times — a 
studied  conversation,  even,  in  which  only  their  best 

thoughts  are  disclosed But  I  thought  I   had 

already  given  time  enough  to  languages  and  to  the 
literature  of  the  ancients,  to  their  histories  and  to 
their  fables.  To  talk  with  men  of  other  times  is  like 
traveling.  It  is  well  to  know  something  of  the  man- 
ners of  foreign  peoples,  in  order  that  we  may  judge 


METHOD]        THE   DISCOURSE    UPON    METHOD.  39 

our  own  more  wisely,  and  that  we  may  not  suppose 
that  what  is  different  from  our  own  habits  is  ridicu- 
lous and  contrary  to  reason,  as  those  do  who  have  not 
seen  the  world.  But  if  one  spends  too  much  time  in 
traveling  in  foreign  countries,  he  becomes  at  last  a 
stranger  in  his  own  ;  and  when  one  is  too  curious  to 
know  what  has  been  done  in  past  ages,  he  is  liable  to 
remain  ignorant  of  what  is  going  on  in  his  own  time. 
Moreover,  fiction  represents  many  events  as  possible 
which  are  not  so  ;  and  even  the  most  faithful  histories, 
if  they  do  not  deviate  from  truth  nor  dignify  events  to 
make  them  more  impressive,  at  least  they  almost 
always  omit  the  meaner  and  the  less  illustrious  inci- 
dents, so  that  it  comes  about  that  the  rest  is  not  what 
it  really  was,  and  those  who  govern  their  conduct  by 
the  examples  there  furnished  are  liable  to  fall  into  the 
extravagances  of  the  paladins  of  our  romances,  and 
to  conceive  designs  which  surpass  their  ability. 

Eloquence  I  held  in  high  esteem,  and  I  was  in  love 
with  poetry  ;  but  I  regarded  both  as  the  gifts  of 
genius  rather  than  the  fruit  of  study.  Those  who 
have  the  strongest  reasoning  powers  and  who  best 
digest  their  thoughts  in  order  to  make  them  clear  and 
intelligible,  are  always  the  best  able  to  speak  per- 
suasively, although  they  may  talk  the  dialect  of  Lower 
Brittany  and  have  never  learned  rhetoric  ;  and  those 
who  have  the  most  delightful  fancies,  and  who  can  ex- 
press them  with  sweetness  and  grace,  are  the  best 
poets,  although  the  art  of  poetry  is  unknown  to  them. 

Above  all  I  was  delighted  with  the  mathematics,  on 
account  of  the  certainty  and  evidence  of  their  demon- 
strations,  but  I  had  not  as  yet  found  out  their  true  use, 
and  although  I  supposed  that  they  were  of  service  only 
in  the  mechanic  arts,  I  was  surprised  that  upon  foun- 


40  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  1 

dations  so  solid  and  stable  no  loftier  structure  had  been 
raised  :  while,  on  the  other  hand,  I  compared  the  writ- 
ings of  the  ancient  moralists  to  palaces  very  proud  and 
very  magnificent,  but  which  are  built  on  nothing  but 

sand  or  mud I  revered  our  theology,  and,  as 

much  as  anyone,  I  strove  to  gain  heaven  ;  but  when  I 
learned,  as  an  assured  fact,  that  the  way  is  open  no  less 
to  the  most  ignorant  than  to  the  most  learned,  and  that 
the  revealed  truths  which  conduct  us  thither  lie  beyond 
the  reach  of  our  intelligence,  I  did  not  presume  to  sub- 
mit them  to  the  feebleness  of  my  reasonings,  and  I 
thought  that,  to  undertake  the  examination  of  them  and 
succeed  in  the  attempt,  required  extraordinary  divine 
assistance  and  more  than  human  gifts.  I  had 
nothing  to  say  of  philosophy,  save  that,  seeing  it  had 
been  cultivated  by  the  best  minds  for  many  ages,  and 
still  there  was  nothing  in  it  which  might  not  be  brought 
into  dispute,  and  which  was,  therefore,  not  free  from 
doubt,  I  had  not  the  presumption  to  hope  for  better  suc- 
cess therein  than  others  ;  and  considering  how  many  di- 
verse opinions  may  be  held  upon  the  same  subject 
and  defended  by  the  learned,  while  not  more  than  one 
of  them  can  be  true,  I  regarded  as  pretty  nearly  false 
all  that  was  merely  probable.  Then,  as  to  the  other 
sciences  which  derive  their  principles  from  philosophy, 
I  judged  that  nothing  solid  could  be  built  upon  foun- 
dations so  unstable  ;  and  neither  the  fame  nor  the 
emolument  they  promised  me  were  sufficient  to  induce 
me  to  acquire  them  ;  for,  thanks  to  a  kind  Provi- 
dence, I  did  not  find  myself  in  a  condition  of  life 
which  required  me  to  make  science  a  profession  for 
the  bettering  of  my  estate  ;  and  although  I  did  not 
profess  to  despise  fame,  like  a  cynic,  still  I  thought 
very  little  of  that  which  I  could  not  hope  to  acquire 


METHOD]       THE    DISCOURSE    UPON    METHOD.  41 

except  on  false  pretenses.  And  finally,  as  for  the 
pseudo-sciences,  I  thought  I  was  already  sufficiently 
acquainted  with  their  value  to  be  proof  against  the 
promises  of  the  alchemist,  the  predictions  of  the 
astrologer,  the  impostures  of  the  magician,  the  artifices 
and  vain  boasting  of  those  who  profess  to  know  more 
than  they  actually  do  know.* 

For  these  reasons,  so  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  to 
be  no  longer  subject  to  the  control  of  my  teachers,  I 
abandoned  literary  pursuits  altogether,  and,  being  re- 
solved to  seek  no  other  knowledge  than  that  which  I 
was  able  to  find  within  myself  or  in  the  great  book  of 
the  world,  I  spent  the  remainder  of  my  youth  in  travel- 
ing, in  seeing  courts  and  armies,  in  mingling  with  peo- 
ple of  various  dispositions  and  conditions  in  life,  in 
collecting  a  variety  of  experiences,  putting  myself  to 
the  proof  in  the  crises  of  fortune,  and  reflecting  on  all 
occasions  on  whatever  might  present  itself,  so  as  to 
derive  from  it  what  profit  I  might.  For  it  appeared  to 
me  that  I  might  find  a  great  deal  more  of  truth  in 
reasonings  such  as  everyone  carries  on  with  reference 
to  the  affairs  which  immediately  concern  himself,  and 
where  the  issue  will  bring  speedy  punishment  if  he 
make  a  mistake,  than  in  those  which  a  man  of  letters 
conducts  in  his  private  study  with  regard  to  specula- 
tions, which  have  no  other  effect  and  are  of  no  further 
consequence  to  him  than  to  tickle  his  vanity  the  less 
they  are  understood  by  common  people,  and  the  more 
they  require  wit  and  skill  to  make  them  seem  probable. 
And  I  always  had  an  extreme  desire  to  learn  how  to 

*  Lewes  in  his  Biographical  History  of  Philosophy,^.  363,  finds 
"  a  remarkable  resemblance '' between  Descartes'  Discourse  and 
the  Arabian  Philosopher  Algazzali's  Revivification  of  the  Sciences 
of  Religion. 


42  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART    I 

distinguish  the  true  from  the  false,  so  that  I  might  see 
clearly  and  proceed  with  assurance  in  the  affairs  of 
this  present  life. 

It  is  true  that  while  I  was  employed  only  in  observ- 
ing the  manners  of  foreigners,  I  found  very  little  to 
establish  my  mind,  and  saw  as  much  diversity  here  as 
I  had  seen  before  in  the  opinions  of  philosophers.  So 
that  the  principal  benefit  I  derived  from  it  was  that, 
observing  many  things  which,  although  they  appear  to 
us  to  be  very  extravagant  and  ridiculous,  are  yet 
commonly  received  and  approved  by  other  great 
peoples,  I  gradually  became  emancipated  from  many 
errors  which  tend  to  obscure  the  natural  light  within 
us,  and  make  us  less  capable  of  listening  to  reason. 
But  after  I  had  spent  some  years  thus  in  studying  in 
the  book  of  the  world,  and  trying  to  gain  some  ex- 
perience, I  formed  one  day  the  resolution  to  study 
within  myself,  and  to  devote  all  the  powers  of  my 
mind  to  choosing  the  paths  which  I  must  thereafter 
follow  ;  a  project  attended  with  much  greater  success, 
as  I  think,  than  it  would  have  been  had  I  never  left 
my  country  nor  my  books. 

PART    SECOND. 

I  WAS  then  in  Germany,  whither  the  wars,  which 
were  not  yet  ended  there,  had  summoned  me  ;  and 
when  I  was  returning  to  the  army,  from  the  coronation 
of  the  emperor,  the  coming  on  of  the  winter  de- 
tained me  in  a  quarter  where,  finding  no  one  I  wished 
to  talk  with,  and  fortunately  having  no  cares  nor 
passions  to  trouble  me,  I  spent  the  whole  day  shut  up 
in  a  room  heated  by  a  stove,  where  I  had  all  the  leisure 
I  desired  to  hold  converse  with  my  own  thoughts. 
One  of  the  first  thoughts  to  occur  to  me  was  that  there 


METHOD]      THE  DISCOURSE  UPON  METHOD.  43 

is  often  less  completeness  in  works  made  up  of  many 
parts  and  by  the  hands  of  different  masters  than  in 
those  upon  which  only  one  has  labored.  Thus  we  see 
that  buildings  which  a  single  architect  has  undertaken 
and  erected  are  usually  much  more  beautiful  and  sym- 
metrical than  those  which  many  have  tried  to  recon- 
struct, using  old  walls  which  were  built  for  other  pur- 
poses. 

So  those  old  cities  which,  at  the  beginning  being 
nothing  but  straggling  villages,  have  in  course  of 
time  become  great  towns,  are  generally  so  badly  ar- 
ranged, compared  with  the  regularly  laid  out  towns 
which  an  engineer  plots  according  to  his  fancy  on 
a  level  plain,  that  although,  when  you  look  at  single 
buildings  by  themselves,  you  find  often  as  much  or 
even  more  art  than  in  those  of  other  cities,  and  yet 
to  see  how  they  are  placed,  a  great  building  here,  a 
little  one  there,  and  how  crooked  and  irregular  the 
streets  are,  you  would  say  that  chance  rather  than  the 
will  of  men  in  the  use  of  their  reason  had  so  disposed 

them And  so  I  thought  that  the  sciences 

contained  in  books,  at  least  those  in  which  the  proofs 
were  merely  probable  and  not  demonstrations,  being 
the  gradual  accumulation  of  opinions  of  many  differ- 
ent persons,  by  no  means  come  so  near  the  truth  as 
the  plain  reasoning  of  a  man  of  good  sense  in  regard 
to  the  matters  which  present  themselves  to  him. 

And  I  thought  still  further  that,  because  we  alt 
have  been  children  before  we  were  men,  and  for  a 
long  time  of  necessity  were  under  the  control  of  our 
inclinations  and  our  tutors,  who  were  often  of  differ- 
ent minds,  and  none  of  whom  perhaps  gave  us  the 
best  of  counsels,  it  is  almost  impossible  that  our  judg- 
ments should  be  as  free  from  error  and  as  solid  as 


44  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  I 

they  would  have  been  if  we  had  had  the  entire  use  of 
our  reason  from  the  moment  of  our  birth,  and  had 
always  been  guided  by  that  alone 

As  for  all  the  opinions  which  I  had  accepted  up  to 
that  time,  I  was  persuaded  that  I  could  do  no  better 
than  get  rid  of  them  at  once,  in  order  to  replace  them 
afterward  with  better  ones,  or  perhaps  with  the  same, 
if  I  should  succeed  in  making  them  square  with  reason. 
And  I  firmly  believed  that  in  this  way  I  should  have 
much  greater  success  in  the  conduct  of  my  life  than 
if  I  should  build  only  on  the  old  foundations,  and 
should  rely  only  on  the  principles  which  I  had  allowed 
myself  to  be  persuaded  of  in  my  youth,  without  ever 
having  examined  whether  they  were  true 

My  design  has  never  reached  further  than  the 
attempt  to  reform  my  own  opinions,  and  to  build 
upon  a  foundation  altogether  my  own.  But  although 
I  am  well  enough  pleased  with  my  work  to  present 
you  here  a  sketch  of  it,  I  would  not  on  that  account 
advise  anyone  to  imitate  me The  simple  reso- 
lution to  strip  one's  self  of  all  that  he  has  hitherto  be- 
lieved is  not  an  example  for  everyone  to  follow 

But  having  discovered  while  at  college  that  there  is 
nothing  whatever  so  strange  or  incredible  that  has 
not  been  said  by  some  philosopher  ;  and  afterward,  in 
my  travels,  having  observed  that  not  all  those  who 
cherish  opinions  quite  contrary  to  our  own  are  there- 
fore barbarians  or  savages,  but  that  many  of  these 
peoples  use  their  reason  as  well  or  better  than  we  do  ; 
and  having  considered  how  differently  the  same  man, 
with  the  same  mind,  would  turn  out,  if  he  were 
brought  up  from  infancy  among  the  French  or  the 
Germans,  from  what  he  would  if  he  always  lived 
among  the  Chinese  or  with  cannibals  ;  and  observing 


METHOD]        THE   DISCOURSE   UPON   METHOD.  45 

how,  even  in  fashions  of  dress,  the  same  thing  which 
pleased  us  ten  years  ago,  and,  it  may  be,  will  please 
us  again  ten  years  hence,  appears  to  us  now  extrava- 
gant and  ridiculous  ;  so  that  it  is  rather  custom  and 
example  than  certain  knowledge  which  persuades  us  ; 
and  yet  a  plurality  of  votes  is  no  proof  that  a  thing  is 
true,  especially  where  truths  are  difficult  of  discovery, 
in  which  case  it  is  much  more  likely  that  a  man  left  to 
himself  will  find  them  out  sooner  than  people  in  general 
— taking  all  these  things  into  consideration,  and  not 
being  able  to  select  anyone  whose  opinions  seemed 
to  me  to  be  preferable  to  those  of  others,  I  found  my- 
self,  as  it  were,  compelled  to  take  myself  as  my  guide. 
But  like  a  man  who  walks  alone  and  in  the  dark,  I  re- 
solved to  go  so  slowly  and  to  use  so  much  caution  in 
everything,  that,  even  if  I  did  not  get  on  very  far,  I 
should  at  least  keep  from  falling.  Likewise  I  was  un- 
willing at  the  start  to  reject  summarily  any  opinion 
which  might  have  insinuated  itself  into  my  belief 
without  having  been  introduced  there  by  reason,  but 
I  would  first  spend  time  enough  to  draw  up  a  plan  of 
the  work  I  was  undertaking  and  to  discover  the  true 
method  for  arriving  at  the  knowledge  of  whatever  my 
mind  was  capable  of. 

I  had  studied,  in  earlier  years,  of  the  branches  of 
philosophy,  logic,  and  in  mathematics,  geometrical 
analysis  and  algebra,  three  arts  or  sciences  which 
seemed  likely  to  afford  some  assistance  to  my  design. 
But  on  examination  of  them  I  observed,  in  respect  to 
logic,  that  its  syllogism  and  the  greater  part  of  its 
processes  are  of  service  principally  in  explaining  to 
another  what  one  already  knows  himself,  or,  like  the  art 
of  Lully,  they  enable  him  to  talk  without  judgment  on 
matters  in  which  he  is  ignorant,  rather  than  help  him 


46  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

to  acquire  knowledge  of  them  ;  and  while  it  contains 
in  reality  many  very  true  and  very  excellent  precepts, 
there  are  nevertheless  mixed  with  these  many  others 
which  are  either  harmful  or  superfluous,  and  which  are 
almost  as  difficult  to  separate  from  the  rest  as  to  draw 
forth  a  Diana  or  a  Minerva  from  a  block  of  marble 
which  is  not  yet  rough-hewn.  Moreover,  as  regards 
the  analysis  of  the  ancients  and  the  algebra  of  the 
moderns,  besides  that  they  relate  only  to  very  abstract 
matters,  and  of  no  practical  use,  the  first  is  always  so 
restricted  to  the  consideration  of  figures  that  it  can- 
not employ  the  understanding  without  fatiguing  the 
imagination,  and  in  the  second  one  is  so  confined  to 
certain  rules  and  symbols  that,  in  place  of  a  science 
which  cultivates  the  mind,  we  have  only  a  confused 
and  obscure  art  productive  of  mental  embarrassment. 
For  this  reason  I  thought  that  some  other  method 
should  be  sought  out  which,  comprising  the  ad- 
vantages of  these  three,  should  be  exempt  from  their 
defects.  And  as  a  multiplicity  of  laws  often  furnishes 
excuses  for  vices,  so  that  a  state  is  best  governed 
which  has  but  few  and  those  strictly  obeyed  ;  in 
like  manner,  in  place  of  the  multitude  of  precepts 
of  which  logic  is  composed,  I  believed  I  should  find 
the  four  following  rules  quite  sufficient,  provided  I 
should  firmly  and  steadfastly  resolve  not  to  fail  of  ob- 
serving them  in  a  single  instance.* 

The  first  rule  was  never  to  receive  anything  as  a 
truth  which  I  did  not  clearly  know  to  be  such  ;  that 
is,  to  avoid  haste  and  prejudice,  and  not  to  compre- 
hend anything  more  in  my  judgments  than  that  which 
should  present  itself  so  clearly  and  so  distinctly  to  my 

*  Compare  Rules  for  the  Direction  of  the  Mind,  below,  p.  6r, 
et  seq. 


METHOD]     THE  DISCOURSE  UPON  METHOD.  47 

mind  that  I  should  have  no  occasion  to  entertain  a 
doubt  of  it. 

The  second  rule  was  to  divide  every  difficulty  which 
I  should  examine  into  as  many  parts  as  possible,  or 
as  might  be  required  for  resolving  it. 

The  third  rule  was  to  conduct  my  thoughts  in  an 
orderly  manner,  beginning  with  objects  the  most  sim- 
ple and  the  easiest  to  understand,  in  order  to  ascend 
as  it  were  by  steps  to  the  knowledge  of  the  most  com- 
posite, assuming  some  order  to  exist  even  in  things 
which  did  not  appear  to  be  naturally  connected. 

IThe  last  rule  was  to  make  enumerations  so  complete,! 
and  reviews  so  comprehensive,  that  I  should  be  certain! 
of  omitting  nothing. 

Those  long  chains  of  reasoning,  quite  simple  and 
easy,  which  geometers  are  wont  to  employ  in  the  ac- 
complishment of  their  most  difficult  demonstrations, 
led  me  to  think  that  everything  which  might  fall  under 
the  cognizance  of  the  human  mind  might  be  connected 
together  in  a  similar  manner,  and  that,  provided  only 
one  should  take  care  not  to  receive  anything  as  true 
which  was  not  so,  and  if  one  were  always  careful  to 
preserve  the  order  necessary  for  deducing  one  truth 
from  another,  there  would  be  none  so  remote  at  which 
he  might  not  at  last  arrive,  nor  so  concealed  which 
he  might  not  discover.  And  I  had  no  great  difficulty 
in  finding  those  with  which  to  make  a  beginning,  for 
I  knew  already  that  these  must  be  the  simplest  and 
easiest  to  apprehend  ;  and  considering  that,  among  all 
those  who  had  up  to  this  time  made  discoveries  in  the 
sciences,  it  was  the  mathematicians  alone  who  had  been 
able  to  arrive  at  demonstrations — that  is  to  say,  at 
proofs  certain  and  evident — I  did  not  doubt  that  I 
should  begin  with  the  same  truths  which  they  have 


48  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

investigated,  although  I  had  looked  for  no  other 
advantage  from  them  than  to  accustom  my  mind 
to  nourish  itself  upon  truths  and  not  to  be  satis- 
fied with  false  reasons.  But  I  had  no  intention  to  at- 
tempt to  learn  all  the  sciences  which  pass  under  the 
name  of  mathematics  ;  and  perceiving  that,  while  their 
subjects  were  different,  they  all  agreed  in  this,  that  they 
considered  nothing  else  but  the  various  relations  and 
proportions  existing  therein,  I  thought  that  it  would 
be  of  advantage  to  examine  solely  proportions  in  gen- 
eral, considering  them  only  in  subjects  which  would 
serve  to  render  my  knowledge  of  them  more  easy, 
at  the  same  time  not  restricting  them  in  any  wise 
thereto,  in  order  so  much  the  better  afterward  to  ap- 
ply them  to  all  others  to  which  they  might  be  suited. 
Next,  having  observed  that,  in  order  to  compre- 
hend them,  it  was  necessary  for  me  sometimes  to  con- 
sider each  of  them  in  particular,  and  sometimes  merely 
to  remember  them,  or  to  combine  many  of  them  to- 
gether, I  thought  that  for  the  better  consideration  of 
them  in  particular  I  ought  to  conceive  them  in  lines, 
because  I  could  find  nothing  more  simple,  and  nothing 
that  I  could  represent  more  distinctly  to  my  imagina- 
tion and  my  senses  ;  but  that,  to  retain  them  or  to 
comprehend  many  of  them  together,  it  would  be 
necessary  for  me  to  represent  them  by  certain  sym- 
bols as  concise  as  possible,  and  for  this  purpose  I 
might  employ  with  the  greatest  advantage  geometrical 
analysis  and  algebra,  and  that  I  might  correct  all  the 
defects  of  the  one  by  the  other. 

And  I  am  free  to  say  that  the  exact  observance 
of  these  few  rules  which  I  had  laid  down  gave  me 
such  facility  in  solving  all  the  questions  to  which 
these  two  sciences  apply,  that  in  the  two  or  three 


METHOD]       THE  DISCOURSE  UPON  METHOD.  49 

months  which  I  spent  in  examining  them,  having  be- 
gun with  the  simplest  and  most  general,  and  each  truth 
that  I  discovered  being  a  rule  which  was  of  service  to 
me  afterward  in  the  discovery  of  others,  not  only  did 
I  arrive  at  many  which  formerly  I  had  considered  very 
difficult,  but  it  seemed  to  me,  toward  the  end,  that 
1  was  able  to  determine  even  in  those  matters  where 
I  was  ignorant  by  what  means  and  how  far  it  would 
be  possible  to  resolve  them.  In  this  I  shall  not  appear 
to  you  to  be  very  vain,  perhaps,  if  you  will  only  con- 
sider that  there  is,  in  respect  to  each  case,  but  one  truth, 
and  that  he  who  finds  it  knows  as  much  about  it  as 
anyone  can  know  ;  as,  for  example,  a  child,  who  has 
learned  arithmetic,  when  he  has  made  an  addition  ac- 
cording to  the  rules,  can  be  assured  that  he  has  found 
out,  in  respect  to  the  sum  that  he  has  computed,  all 
that  it  is  possible  for  the  human  mind  to  discover.  Be- 
cause, in  a  word,  the  method  which  shows  one  how  to 
follow  the  true  order,  and  to  take  account  exactly  of 
all  the  circumstances  of  the  subject  under  investigation, 
contains  all  that  which  gives  certitude  to  the  rules  of 
arithmetic.  But  that  which  pleased  me  most  in  this 
method  was  the  fact  that  by  means  of  it  I  was  using 
my  reason  in  everything,  if  not  perfectly,  yet  in  a 
manner  the  very  best  in  my  power  ;  besides,  I  noticed 
that  in  following  it  my  mind  was  accustoming  itself  by 
degrees  to  conceive  its  object  more  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly ;  and,  without  restricting  it  to  any  particular 
subject,  I  hoped  to  apply  it  as  successfully  to  the 
difficulties  of  other  sciences  as  I  had  done  to  those  of 
algebra.  Not  that  I  had  dared  to  undertake  at  once 
to  examine  all  that  presented  themselves,  for  that 
would  have  been  contrary  to  the  order  which  the 
method  had  prescribed,  but  observing  that  their  prin- 


50  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

ciples  must  in  every  case  be  derived  from  philosophy, 
in  which  I  had  not  yet  found  any  that  were  certain, 
I  thought  it  to  be  necessary  first  of  all  to  attempt  to 
establish  them  there,  and  that,  this  being  of  all  things 
of  the  greatest  importance,  and  an  inquiry  where, 
above  all,  haste  and  prejudice  were  to  be  feared,  I 
ought  not  to  undertake  the  task  until  I  had  reached 
a  riper  age  than  that  of  twenty-three  years,  which  was 
then  my  age,  and  until  I  had  spent  a  considerable 
time  in  eradicating  from  my  mind  all  those  false  ideas 
which  I  had  received  previously,  as  well  as  in  accu- 
mulating a  stock  of  experiences  to  form  the  matter 
of  my  reasonings,  and  in  exercising  myself  constantly 
in  the  method  which  I  had  prescribed  for  myself,  in 
order  to  strengthen  myself  therein  more  and  more. 

PART    THIRD. 

AND  finally,  since  before  one  begins  to  rebuild  the 
house  in  which  he  is  living,  it  is  not  enough  that 
he  should  tear  it  down,  and  provide  materials  and 
architects,  or  study  architecture  for  himself,  and 
then  make  a  careful  design,  but  it  is  also  necessary 
that  he  should  be  provided  with  some  other  house,  in 
which  he  may  comfortably  lodge  while  the  new  one 
is  building  ;  in  like  manner,  in  order  that  I  might  not 
lead  an  irresolute  life  during  the  time  in  which  reason 
required  me  to  remain  undecided  in  my  opinions,  and 
in  order  that  I  might  not  thenceforward  fail  of  living 
as  happily  as  possible,  I  formed  for  myself  a  pro- 
visional moral  code  consisting  of  only  three  or  four 
maxims  which  I  desire  to  lay  before  you. 

The  first  was  to  obey  the  laws  and  customs  of  my 
native  land,  holding  steadfastly  to  the  religion  in  which, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  I  had  been  brought  up  from  in- 


METHOD]      THE  DISCOURSE  UPON  METHOD.  51 

fancy,  and  to  govern  myself  in  every  other  concern  in 
accordance  with  opinions  the  most  moderate  and  fur- 
thest from  excess,  such  as  were  commonly  put  in  prac- 
tice by  the  most  sensible  people  among  those  with 
whom  I  had  to  live.  Because,  beginning  from  that 
time  onward  to  count  for  nothing  my  own  opinions, 
for  the  reason  that  I  wished  to  submit  them  all  to  ex- 
amination, I  was  convinced  that  I  could  not  do  better 
than  to  follow  those  of  the  most  sensible.  And  al- 
though there  might  be  just  as  sensible  people  among 
the  Persians  or  the  Chinese  as  among  ourselves,  it 
appeared  to  me  to  be  more  to  my  advantage  to  regu- 
late my  conduct  by  those  with  whom  I  had  to  live  ; 
and,  in  order  to  know  what  their  opinions  really  were, 
I  ought  rather  to  observe  what  they  practiced  than 
what  they  said,  not  only  because  that,  in  the  corrup- 
tion of  our  manners,  very  few  people  are  willing  to 
say  all  that  they  think,  but  also  because  most  persons 
are  ignorant  of  their  own  thoughts  ;  for  the  act  of 
thought  in  which  one  thinks  anything  being  distinct 
from  that  in  which  he  perceives  that  he  thinks  it, 
the  one  may  often  be  without  the  other.  And  among 
many  opinions  equally  acceptable,  I  chose  only  the 
most  moderate,  not  only  because  those  are  always 
the  most  suitable  to  put  in  practice,  and  probably  the 
best,  all  excess  being  usually  bad,  but  also  in  order 
that  I  might  find  myself  less  astray  from  the  true  path 
than  I  should  if,  having  chosen  one  of  the  extremes, 
it  should  turn  out  that  it  was  the  other  which  should 
have  been  followed.  And,  in  particular,  I  set  down 
as  excess  all  pledges  whereby  one  restricts  his  liberty  ; 
not  that  I  disapproved  of  laws,  which,  to  remedy  the 
inconstancy  of  feeble  minds,  allow,  when  one  has  a 
good  end  in  view,  or  even,  for  security  in  business 


52  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

transactions,  when  the  end  is  quite  indifferent,  that 
vows  or  contracts  should  be  made  which  bind  a  per- 
son to  his  engagements  ;  but  because  I  did  not  see 
anything  anywhere  which  remained  always  in  the 
same  state,  and  for  myself  in  particular,  who  had  en- 
gaged to  improve  my  opinions  more  and  more,  and 
not  to  make  them  worse,  I  thought  it  would  be  com- 
mitting a  great  sin  against  good  sense  if,  because  I 
approved  something  then,  I  should  oblige  myself  to 
approve  it  ever  afterward,  when  perhaps  it  had  ceased 
to  be  good  or  I  had  ceased  to  consider  it  so. 

My  second  maxim  was  to  be  as  firm  and  resolute 
in  my  conduct  as  I  could,  and  to  follow  the  most 
doubtful  opinions,  when  I  had  once  made  up  my 
mind  to  do  so,  with  no  less  constancy  than  if  they 
were  very  well  grounded  ;  imitating  in  this  respect 
travelers,  who,  on  finding  out  that  they  are  lost  in  a 
forest,  should  not  wander  about,  turning  now  to  this 
side  and  now  to  that,  still  less  stay  in  one  spot,  but 
always  move  on  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  same 
direction,  and  not  change  it  except  for  sufficient 
reasons,  although,  perhaps,  at  the  beginning,  it  was 
nothing  but  chance  which  led  them  to  choose  it,  be- 
cause, in  this  way,  although  they  may  not  come  out 
precisely  where  they  may  have  wished,  they  will  in 
the  end  at  least  arrive  somewhere,  where  they  will 
probably  be  better  off  than  in  the  middle  of  a  forest. 
In  a  similar  manner,  in  the  conduct  of  life,  where 
actions  often  do  not  admit  of  delay,  it  is  a  truth  very 
certain  that  when  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  discern 
the  truest  opinion,  we  ought  to  follow  the  most  prob- 
able ;  and  even  although  we  may  not  see  more 
probability  in  some  than  in  others,  we  ought  never- 
theless to  commit  ourselves  to  some  opinions,  and 


METHOD]      THE  DISCOURSE  UPON  METHOD.  53 

thereafter  consider  them  in  their  relation  to  conduct 
as  being  no  longer  doubtful,  but  perfectly  true  and 
certain,  because  the  reason  is  so  which  made  them 
choose  it.  This  rule  observed  has  delivered  me  from 
all  the  repentings  and  regrets  which  vex  the  con- 
sciences of  those  weak  and  wavering  souls  who  allow 
themselves  inconsiderately  to  put  in  practice,  as  if 
they  were  good,  things  which  they  afterward  judge  to 
be  bad. 

My  third  maxim  was  to  try  always  to  conquer 
myself  rather  than  fortune,  and  to  change  my  desires 
rather  than  the  order  of  the  world,  and,  in  general,  to 
accustom  myself  to  believe  that  there  is  nothing 
whatever  so  entirely  within  our  power  as  our  thoughts 
are,  so  that  after  we  have  done  our  best  in  respect  to 
things  external  to  us,  whatever  there  is  lacking  to 
success  is,  as  regards  ourselves,  absolutely  impossible. 
And  this  of  itself  seemed  to  me  enough  to  prevent 
me  from  desiring  for  the  future  anything  which  I 
could  not  obtain,  and  thus  to  make  me  contented  ; 
for,  inasmuch  as  our  will  is  naturally  inclined  to  desire 
only  those  things  which  our  understanding  repre- 
sents to  us  as  being  somehow  attainable,  it  is  cer- 
tain that,  if  we  consider  all  the  good  things  which  are 
external  to  us  as  equally  removed  from  our  power, 
we  shall  feel  no  more  regret  at  the  loss  of  those  which 
seem  to  be  due  to  our  birth,  when  we  shall  be  deprived 
of  them  through  no  fault  of  our  own,  than  we  should 
feel  at  not  possessing  the  kingdoms  of  China  or 
Mexico  ;  and  making  a  virtue  of  necessity,  as  they 
say,  we  shall  no  more  desire  to  be  well  when  ill,  nor  to 
be  at  liberty  while  in  prison,  than  we  should  now  desire 
to  have  bodies  made  of  some  matter  as  incorruptible 
as  diamonds,  or  wings  to  fly  with  like  birds.  But  I 


54  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

own  that  long  practice  is  needed,  and  often  repeated 
reflection,  to  accustom  one's  self  to  look  on  all  things 
from  this  point  of  view  ;  and  I  believe  that  chiefly  in 
this  consisted  the  secret  of  those  philosophers  who 
in  former  times  were  able  to  deliver  themselves  from 
the  sway  of  fortune,  and,  despite  suffering  and 
poverty,  to  vie  with  their  gods  in  felicity.  For, 
steadfastly  considering  the  limits  assigned  to  them 
by  nature,  they  so  fully  persuaded  themselves  that 
nothing  whatever  was  in  their  power  but  their 
thoughts,  that,  by  itself  alone,  this  was  enough  to 
keep  them  from  having  any  yearning  for  other  things  ; 
and  over  their  thoughts  they  held  a  sway  so  absolute 
that  they  had  therein  good  reason  to  look  upon 
themselves  as  being  richer,  more  powerful,  more  free, 
and  more  happy  than  any  of  their  fellow-men,  who, 
without  this  philosophy,  favored,  as  they  might  be, 
by  nature  and  by  fortune,  could  never  thus  control  all 
that  they  desired. 

Finally,  to  make  a  conclusion  of  my~code  of  morals, 
I  was  minded  to  pass  in  review  the  various  occupa- 
tions of  men  in  this  life,  with  a  view  of  choosing  the 
best ;  and,  without  wishing  to  pronounce  upon  those 
of  others,  I  thought  that  I  could  do  no  better  than  to 
keep  on  in  the  same  pursuit  in  which  I  was  engaged, 
that  is  to  say,  spending  all  my  life  in  the  cultivation  of 
my  reason,  and  in  making  as  much  progress  as  I  could 
in  the  knowledge  of  truth,  following  out  the  method  I 
had  laid  down  for  myself.  I  have  found,  since  I  be- 
gan to  make  use  of  this  method,  satisfactions  so  great 
as  I  do  not  believe  more  sweet  or  more  innocent  can 
be  known  in  this  life  :  and  discovering  every  day,  by 
means  of  it,  important  truths,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  and 
of  which  most  men  were  ignorant,  the  gratification  I 


METHOD]      THE  DISCOURSE  UPON  METHOD.  55 

had  from  it  so  filled  my  mind  that  nothing  else  affected 
me  at  all.  Besides,  the  three  preceding  maxims  were 
founded  simply  on  the  design  I  had  of  carrying  on 
my  work  of  self-instruction.  For  inasmuch  as  God 
has  given  to  each  one  of  us  some  light  for  discerning 
the  true  from  the  false,  I  could  not  believe  I  should 
be  content  with  the  opinions  of  others  for  a  single 
moment,  if  I  had  not  proposed  to  use  my  own  judg- 
ment in  examining  them  when  the  proper  time  should 
arrive  ;  and  I  could  not  have  followed  them  without 
scruple  had  I  not  been  confident  that  in  doing  so  I 
should  lose  no  opportunity  of  finding  out  better  ones, 
if  such  should  exist  ;  and  finally,  I  should  not  have 
been  able  to  limit  my  desires  nor  be  content,  had  I 
not  followed  a  path  by  which  I  felt  sure  of  attaining 
all  the  knowledge  I  should  be  capable  of,  and  as  well 
all  the  real  good  which  should  ever  be  within  my 
power.  Inasmuch  as  our  will  is  never  inclined  to  pur- 
sue or  to  avoid  anything  except  as  our  understand- 
ing represents  it  as  good  or  bad,  all  that  is  needed  for 
one  to  act  rightly  is  that  he  judge  correctly;  and  the 
best  judgment  he  can  form  is  all  that  is  necessary  to 
secure  his  best  action,  that  is  to  say.  the  acquisition 
of  all  the  virtues,  together  with  all  other  goods  within 
one's  power  :  and  when  all  that  is  assured,  content- 
ment must  follow. 

After  I  had  thus  become  satisfied  of  the  worth  of 
these  maxims  and  had  given  them  a  place  by  them- 
selves alongside  the  verities  of  the  Faith,  which  have 
always  stood  first  in  my  belief,  I  judged  that  as  for  all 
the  rest  of  my  opinions  I  might  freely  begin  to  rid 
myself  of  them.  And  inasmuch  as  I  hoped  to  be 
able  the  better  to  bring  this  about  by  mingling  with 
my  fellow-men  than  by  staying  any  longer  shut  up  in 


$6  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

the  room  where  I  had  all  these  thoughts,  the  winter 
was  hardly  well  over  before  I  set  out  on  my  travels 
again.  And  in  all  the  nine  years  that  followed  I  did 
nothing  but  roam  from  place  to  place,  as  a  spectator 
rather  than  an  actor  in  the  drama  of  life  ;  and  while 
I  gave  particular  attention  in  each  case  to  that  in  it 
which  afforded  occasion  for  doubt,  and  wherein  one 
might  be  mistaken,  at  the  same  time  I  was  rooting  out 
from  my  own  mind  the  errors  which  had  already  in- 
sinuated themselves.  Not,  however,  that  in  so  doing  I 
imitated  the  skeptics,  who  doubt  only  for  doubt's  sake, 
and  desire  permanent  uncertainty  ;  for,  on  the  contrary, 
my  whole  design  tended  only  to  assurance  and  to  the 
rejection  of  the  shifting  soil  or  sand,  to  find  solid 
foundation  on  the  rock  or  the  hard  clay. 

In  this  I  was  quite  successful,  as  I  thought,  inas- 
much as,  in  my  endeavor  to  detect  the  falsity  or  un- 
certainty of  the  propositions  I  was  examining,  not  by 
feeble  conjecture,  but  by  clear  and  sure  reasoning, 
I  met  with  none  so  doubtful  that  I  could  not  draw 
from  it  some  quite  certain  conclusion,  even  if  it  were 
only  this,  that  the  proposition  contained  nothing  cer- 
tain. And  as  in  pulling  down  an  old  house  we  gen- 
erally save  what  is  good  of  the  ruins  to  use  in  build- 
ing up  the  new  one,  so,  while  destroying  all  those 
among  my  opinions  which  I  decided  to  be  ill-founded, 
I  made  various  observations  and  acquired  many  ex- 
periences which  since  have  been  of  use  to  me  in  es- 
tablishing more  certain  ones.  And,  in  addition,  I 
kept  on  practicing  the  method  I  had  prescribed  for 
myself  ;  for  besides  taking  care  in  general  to  conduct 
all  my  thinking  according  to  the  rules,  I  reserved 
from  time  to  time  certain  hours  which  I  spent  in  the 
particular  applications  of  it  to  the  difficulties  of 


METHOD]         THE   DISCOURSE    UPON    METHOD.  57 

mathematics,  as  well  as  to  some  others  which  I  was 
able  to  render  quasi-mathematical,  by  detaching  them 
from  all  the  principles  of  other  sciences  which  I  did 
not  find  to  be  well  established,  as  you  shall  see  I  have 
done  in  many  cases  which  are  explained  in  this 
volume.*  And  thus,  without  appearing  to  live  differ- 
ently from  those  who,  having  no  occupation  but  to 
live  an  agreeable  and  innocent  life,  devote  themselves  to 
the  dissevering  of  pleasures  from  vices,  and  who,  to 
enjoy  their  leisure  without  ennui,  engage  in  all  forms 
of  recreation  which  are  honorable,  I  was  still  carry- 
ing out  my  design,  and  making  more  progress  in  the 
knowledge  of  truth  than  perhaps  I  should  have  done 
by  reading  books  or  mingling  with  men  of  letters. 

Nevertheless  these  nine  years  rolled  away  before  I 
had  reached  any  decision  on  the  questions  commonly 
in  dispute  among  the  learned,  or  had  begun  to  seek 
foundations  for  a  philosophy  more  certain  than  that 
in  vogue.  And  the  example  of  many  men  of  excellent 
minds,  who  formerly  had  the  same  design,  but  who 
seemed  to  me  not  to  have  succeeded  in  it,  led  me 
to  imagine  it  a  work  of  so  much  difficulty  that  per- 
haps I  should  not  so  soon  have  dared  to  undertake 
it,  if  I  had  not  learned  that  certain  persons  were 
already  spreading  the  rumor  abroad  that  I  had  accom- 
plished it.  I  cannot  say  upon  what  they  based  their 
opinion ;  and  if  I  contributed  anything  thereto  in  my 
conversation,  it  must  have  been  by  my  confessing  my 
ignorance  more  openly  than  those  are  wont  to  do 
who  have  studied  a  little,  and  perhaps  also  by  making 
known  the  reasons  I  had  for  doubting  of  many  things 
which  others  held  for  certain,  rather  than  of  boasting 

*  The  Dioptrics,  the  Meteors,  and  the  Geometry  originally  ap- 
peared in  the  same  volume  with  the  Discourse  on  Method. 


58  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

of  any  new  doctrine.  But  as  I  had  too  honest  a  soul 
to  wish  to  be  taken  for  other  than  I  was,  I  thought 
I  ought  by  all  means  to  try  to  make  myself  worthy  of 
the  reputation  they  had  given  me ;  and  this  desire, 
just  eight  years  ago,  made  me  resolve  to  abandon  all 
places  where  I  might  make  acquaintances,  and  to 
retire  to  this  spot,  in  a  country  *  where  the  long  dura- 
tion of  the  war  has  led  to  the  establishment  of  such 
order  that  the  troops  maintained  here  serve  only  to 
make  the  people  enjoy  with  the  greater  security  the 
blessings  of  peace,  and  where  amid  a  great  crowd  of 
people,  very  active  and  more  interested  in  their  own 
affairs  than  curious  in  regard  to  those  of  others,  with- 
out lacking  any  of  the  conveniences  to  be  found  in  the 
most  populous  towns,  I  have  been  able  to  live  as 
solitary  and  retired  as  in  the  most  remote  deserts.f 

*  Holland,  where  he  lived  in  many  different  villages  from  1629 
to  1649.  See  Kuno  Fischer,  Descartes,  p.  207,  trans. 

f  The  remaining  three  parts  of  the  Mtthode,  which  discuss 
topics  treated  in  other  writings,  may  be  found  translated  in  the 
work  of  Professor  Veitch,  which  contains  the  Discourse  entire. 


RULES   FOR  THE   DIRECTION  OF  THE 
MIND. 


RULES  FOR  THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE 
MIND. 

RULE  I. —  The  end  of  studies  should  be  the  discipline 
of  the  mind,  such  as  shall  enable  it  to  pass  true  and  solid 
judgments  upon  any  subject  which  may  present  itself. 

Whenever  men  perceive  a  resemblance  between  two 
things,  they  are  wont  to  apply  to  both,  even  in  re- 
spects in  which  they  differ,  what  they  have  found  to 
be  true  of  either.  In  this  way  they  compare,  improp- 
erly, the  sciences,  which  consist  solely  of  the  work  of 
the  mind,  with  the  arts,  which  require  definite  practice 
and  a  certain  bodily  aptitude.  And  as  they  see  that 
one  man  is  not  able  to  learn  all  arts  at  once,  but  that 
he  only  becomes  skillful  in  any  who  cultivates  that 
alone,  since  the  same  hands  cannot  successfully  work 
the  soil  and  touch  the  lyre  (and  devote  themselves  at 
the  same  time  to  employments  so  different),  they 
think  that  the  same  is  true  of  the  sciences,  and,  dis- 
tinguishing them  by  the  subjects  of  which  they  treat, 
they  believe  it  to  be  necessary  to  study  each  by  itself, 
apart  from  the  rest.  But  this  is  a  great  mistake  ;  for 
as  the  sciences  all  together  are  nothing  but  the  human 
intelligence,  which  always  remains  one  and  the  same, 
no  matter  what  be  the  variety  of  the  subjects  to  which 
it  applies  itself,  inasmuch  as  this  variety  changes  its 
nature  no  more  than  the  diversity  of  objects  upon 
which  it  shines  changes  the  nature  of  the  sun,  there  is 
no  need  of  confining  the  human  mind  within  any 
limit.  Indeed  it  is  not  the  same  with  the  knowledge 

61 


62  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

of  a  truth  and  the  practice  of  an  art ;  one  truth  dis- 
covered, far  from  being  a  hindrance  to  us,  aids  us  in 
discovering  another.  And  certainly  it  seems  to  me 
surprising  that  the  greater  part  of  men  study  with 
diligence  plants  and  their  virtues,  the  courses  of  the 
stars,  the  transformations  of  metals,  and  a  thousand 
similar  objects,  while  hardly  anyone  occupies  himself 
with  intelligence  or  this  universal  science  of  which 
we  are  speaking  ;  and  yet,  if  other  studies  have  any 
value,  it  is  less  on  their  own  account  than  for  the  aid 
which  they  afford  to  this.  Accordingly  it  is  not  with- 
out purpose  that  we  place  this  rule  at  the  head  of  the 
whole  list,  for  nothing  diverts  us  from  the  truth 
more  than  the  directing  of  our  efforts  toward  particu- 
lar ends,  instead  of  turning  them  upon  this  single  uni- 
versal end 

It  must  be  understood,  at  the  outset,  that  the 
sciences  are  so  bound  together  that  it  is  easier  to 
learn  them  all  than  to  detach  any  one  of  them  from 
the  rest.  If,  then,  one  wishes  seriously  to  search  for 
truth,  he  need  not  devote  himself  to  a  single  science  ; 
they  all  lie  close  together  and  depend  one  upon 
another 

RULE  II. —  We  should  occupy  ourselves  only  with 
those  subjects  in  reference  to  which  the  mind  is  cap- 
able of  acquiring  certain  and  indubitable  knowledge. 
....  But  if  we  rigidly  adhere  to  our  rule  there  will 
remain  but  few  things  to  the  study  of  which  we  can 
devote  ourselves.  There  exists  in  the  sciences  hardly 
a  single  question  upon  which  men  of  intellectual  ability 
have  not  held  different  opinions.  But  whenever  two 
men  pass  contrary  judgments  on  the  same  thing,  it  is 
certain  that  one  of  the  two  is  in  the  wrong.  More  than 
that,  neither  of  them  has  the  truth  ;  for  if  one  of  them 


METHOD]      THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  63 

had  a  clear  and  precise  insight  into  it,  he  could  so  ex- 
hibit it  to  his  opponent  as  to  end  the  discussion  by 
compelling  his  conviction.  We  cannot,  then,  hope 
to  attain  complete  knowledge  of  all  those  things  upon 
which  only  probable  opinions  exist,  because  we  cannot 
without  presumption  expect  from  ourselves  more  than 
others  have  been  able  to  accomplish.  It  follows  from 
this,  if  we  reckon  rightly,  that  among  existing  sciences 
there  remain  only  geometry  and  arithmetic,  to  which 
the  observance  of  our  rule  would  bring  us 

Arithmetic  and  geometry  are  much  more  certain 
than  the  other  sciences,  because  the  objects  of  them 
are  in  themselves  so  simple  and  so  clear  that  they  need 
not  suppose  anything  which  experience  can  call  in 
question,  and  both  proceed  by  a  chain  of  consequences 
which  reason  deduces  one  from  another.  They  are 
also  the  easiest  and  the  clearest  of  all  the  sciences,  and 
their  object  is  such  as  we  desire  ;  for,  except  from 
want  of  attention,  it  is  hardly  supposable  that  a  man 
should  go  astray  in  them.  We  must  not  be  surprised, 
however,  that  many  minds  apply  themselves  by  prefer- 
ence to  other  studies,  or  to  philosophy.  Indeed  every- 
one allows  himself  more  freely  the  right  to  make  his 
guess  if  the  matter  be  dark  than  if  it  be  clear,  and  it 
is  much  easier  to  have  on  any  question  some  vague 
ideas  than  to  arrive  at  the  truth  itself  on  the  simplest 
of  all.  From  all  this  it  must  be  concluded,  not  that 
arithmetic  and  geometry  are  the  only  sciences  to  be 
learned,  but  that  he  who  seeks  the  path  of  truth  must 
not  occupy  himself  with  any  subject  upon  which  he 
cannot  have  a  knowledge  equal  in  certainty  to  the  dem- 
onstrations of  arithmetic  and  geometry. 

RULE  III. — In  regard  to  the  subject  of  our  studies  we 
should  seek,  not  what  others  may  have  thought  about 


64  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

/'/,  not  what  we  ourselves  may  suspect  to  be  true,  but  what 
we  can  see  clearly  and  with  evidence,  or  deduce  -with 
certainty.  This  is  the  only  way  of  arriving  at  scien- 
tific truth.  We  never  shall  be  mathematicians,  al- 
though we  have  learned  by  heart  all  the  demon- 
strations of  others,  if  we  are  not  able  by  ourselves 
to  solve  every  kind  of  problem.  In  like  manner, 
though  we  have  read  all  the  arguments  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  we  shall  not  be  philosophers,  if  we  are  not 
able  to  pass  a  solid  judgment  on  any  question  what- 
ever. In  reality  we  should  have  learned,  not  a  science, 

but  so  much  history Let  us  now  declare  the 

means  whereby  our  understanding  can  rise  to  knowl- 
edge without  fear  of  error.  There  are  two  such 
means  :  intuition  and  deduction.  By  intuition  I  mean 
not  the  varying  testimony  of  the  senses,  nor  the  delu- 
sive judgment  of  imagination  naturally  extravagant, 
but  the  conception  of  an  attentive  mind  so  distinct  and 
so  clear  that  no  doubt  remains  to  it  with  regard  to  that 
which  it  comprehends  ;  or,  what  amounts  to  the  same 
thing,  the  self-evidencing  conception  of  a  sound  and 
attentive  mind,  a  conception  which  springs  from  the 
light  of  reason  alone,  and  is  more  certain,  because 
more  simple,  than  deduction  itself,  which,  neverthe- 
less, as  I  have  said  already,  can  be  performed  by  any 
man.  Thus  anyone  can  see  intuitively  that  he  exists; 
that  he  thinks;  that  a  triangle  is  bounded  by  three 
sides,  neither  more  nor  less  ;  that  a  globe  has  but  one 
surface  ;  and  so  of  many  other  things,  which  are  more 
numerous  than  one  commonly  thinks,  because  he  does 

not  deign  to  attend  to  matters  so  simple It 

may  perhaps  be  asked  why  to  intuition  we  add  this 
other  mode  of  knowing,  by  deduction,  that  is  to  say, 
the  process  which,  from  something  of  which  we  have 


METHOD]        THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  65 

certain  knowledge,  draws  consequences  which  neces- 
sarily follow  therefrom.  But  we  are  obliged  to  admit 
this  second  step ;  for  there  are  a  great  many  things 
which,  without  being  evident  of  themselves,  neverthe- 
less bear  the  mark  of  certainty  if  only  they  are  de- 
duced from  true  and  incontestable  principles  by  a  con- 
tinuous and  uninterrupted  movement  of  thought,  with 
'distinct  intuition  of  each  thing  ;  just  as  we  know  that 
the  last  link  of  a  long  chain  holds  to  the  first,  although 
we  cannot  take  in  with  one  glance  of  the  eye  the  in- 
termediate links,  provided  that,  after  having  run  over 
them  in  succession,  we  can  recall  them  all,  each  as  be- 
ing joined  to  its  fellows,  from  the  first  up  to  the  last. 
Thus  we  distinguish  intuition  from  deduction,  inas- 
much as  in  the  latter  case  there  is  conceived  a  certain 
progress  or  succession,  while  it  is  not  so  in  the  former  ; 
and  besides,  deduction  does  not  require  present  evi- 
dence, like  intuition,  but  borrows  in  some  sort  all  its 
certainty  from  memory  ;  whence  it  follows  that  primary 
propositions,  derived  immediately  from  principles, 
may  be  said  to  be  known,  according  to  the  way  we 
view  them,  now  by  intuition,  now  by  deduction  ;  al- 
though the  principles  themselves  can  be  known  only  by 
intuition,  the  remote  consequences  only  by  deduction. 
These  are  the  two  surest  paths  to  knowledge  ;  the 
mind  ought  not  to  follow  any  more  than  these  ;  it 
ought  to  abandon  all  others  as  doubtful  and  liable  to 
lead  to  error  :  which,  however,  is  not  saying  that  the 
truths  of  revelation  are  not  the  most  certain  of  all  our 
knowledge ;  for  faith,  which  establishes  them,  is,  as 
in  everything  which  is  obscure,  an  act,  not  of  the 
intellect,  but  of  the  will,  and  if  it  have  any  founda- 
tion whatever  in  human  intelligence  it  is  through  one 
of  these  two  ways  of  which  I  have  just  spoken  that 


66  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.  PART  I 

it  can  and  should  be  discovered,  as  I  shall  some  day 
point  out  with  more  detail. 

RULE  IV. — Necessity  of  method  in  the  search  for 
truth. — The  minds  of  men  are  urged  on  by  curiosity 
so  blind  that  they  frequently  enter  upon  paths  unknown 
to  them,  with  no  well-grounded  expectation,  but 
merely  to  see  whether  what  they  are  seeking  for  may. 
not  be  there,  very  much  as  those  do  who  in  the  insane 
desire  to  find  a  treasure  run  about  continually  from 
place  to  place,  to  see  whether  some  traveler  may  not 
have  left  one  there  :  in  such  a  spirit  as  this  almost  all 
chemists,  the  majority  of  geometers,  and  a  good  num- 
ber of  philosophers,  pursue  their  studies.  And,  indeed, 
I  do  not  deny  that  they  have  not  sometimes  the  good 
fortune  to  hit  upon  some  truth  ;  but  I  do  not  on  that 
account  admit  that  they  are  the  more  skillful,  but  only 
the  more  fortunate.  It  is  better  even  never  to  dream 
of  seeking  truth,  than  to  try  to  find  it  without  method  ; 
for  it  is  certain  that  studies  without  order  and  con- 
fused meditations  obscure  the  natural  lights  and  blind 
the  mind.  Those  who  accustom  themselves  thus  to 
walk  in  the  dark  so  enfeeble  the  mental  vision  that  they 
cannot  bear  the  light  of  day  ;  a  truth  confirmed  by  ex- 
perience, since  we  see  men  who  never  have  occupied 
themselves  with  letters  judge  more  soundly  and  more 
correctly  on  what  presents  itself  to  their  attention  than 
those  do  who  have  passed  their  lives  in  the  schools. 
But  by  method  I  mean  sure  and  simple  rules,  which, 
rigidly  observed,  will  prevent  our  ever  supposing  what 
is  false  to  be  true,  and  will  cause  the  mind,  without 
ever  consuming  its  energies  to  no  purpose,  and  by 
gradually  increasing  its  knowledge,  to  raise  itself  to 
exact  knowledge  of  all  that  it  is  capable  of  attain- 
ing. 


METHOD]      THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  67 

These  two  points  must  be  well  noted,  not  to  take  the 
false  for  the  true,  and  to  attempt  to  arrive  at  the  knowl- 
edge of  all  things.  Indeed,  if  we  are  ignorant  of  any- 
thing of  all  that  we  are  able  to  know,  it  is  because  we 
have  never  discovered  any  means  which  can  conduct 
us  to  such  knowledge,  or  because  we  have  fallen  into 
the  opposite  error.  But  if  the  method  shows  clearly 
how  intuition  must  be  employed  to  avoid  taking  the 
false  for  the  true,  and  how  deduction  necessarily 
operates  to  conduct  us  to  the  knowledge  of  all  things, 
it  will  be  complete  in  my  opinion,  and  nothing  will  be 
wanting  to  it,  since  there  is  no  science  save  by  intui- 
tion and  deduction,  as  I  have  said  above.  Neverthe- 
less, it  cannot  go  the  length  of  teaching  how  to  per- 
form these  operations,  because  they  are  the  simplest 
and  first  of  all  ;  so  that,  if  our  mind  does  not  know  in 
advance  how  to  perform  them,  it  cannot  understand 
any  of  the  rules  of  method,  however  simple  they  may 
be.  As  for  other  mental  operations  which  logic  at- 
tempts to  lay  down  rules  for  in  aid  of  these  two  first 
means,  they  are  here  of  no  utility  whatever  ;  more 
than  that,  they  must  be  classed  as  obstacles  ;  for  noth- 
ing can  be  added  to  the  pure  light  of  reason  which 
does  not  in  a  manner  obscure  it. 

As  the  usefulness  of  this  method  is  such  that  to  de- 
vote one's  self  to  the  study  of  letters  without  it  is  harm- 
ful rather  than  useful,  I  am  fond  of  thinking  that  for 
a  long  time  superior  minds,  left  to  their  natural  bent, 
have  had  some  glimpse  of  it.  In  truth  the  human 
mind  possesses  a  certain  divine  element,  wherein  are 
lodged  the  first  germs  of  useful  knowledge,  which  in 
spite  of  neglect  and  the  constraint  of  ill-conducted 
studies  bear  their  spontaneous  fruits.  Of  this  we  have 
proof  in  the  easiest  of  all  the  sciences,  arithmetic  and 


68  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.  PART  I 

geometry.  Indeed  it  has  been  observed  that  the  an- 
cient geometers  made  use  of  a  kind  of  analysis,  which 
they  employed  in  the  solution  of  problems,  although 
they  begrudged  to  posterity  the  knowledge  of  it.  And 
do  we  not  see  flourishing  a  certain  species  of  arithme- 
tic, namely  algebra,  which  has  for  its  object  to  operate 
upon  numbers  as  the  ancients  operated  upon  forms? 
But  these  two  modes  of  analysis  are  nothing  else  than 
spontaneous  fruits  of  the  principles  of  this  natural 
method,  and  I  am  not  surprised  that,  when  applied  to 
objects  so  simple,  they  should  have  proved  more  suc- 
cessful than  in  other  sciences,  where  greater  obstacles 
arrested  their  development ;  still,  even  in  those  sciences, 
had  they  been  cultivated  with  diligence,  they  might 
have  attained  a  full  maturity. 

This  is  the  design  that  I  propose  in  this  treatise. 
Indeed,  I  should  not  attach  very  much  importance  to 
these  rules,  if  their  only  use  was  to  solve  certain  prob- 
lems with  which  calculators  and  geometers  amuse  them- 
selves in  their  leisure  moments.  If  this  were  the  case, 
what  else  should  I  be  doing  but  to  occupy  myself  with 
trifles  with,  perhaps,  more  subtlety  than  others  ?  Again, 
although  in  this  treatise  I  speak  often  of  forms  and  num- 
bers, because  there  is  no  other  science  from  which  can 
be  taken  examples  more  evident  and  more  certain,  he 
who  attentively  follows  my  thought  will  see  that  I  do 
not  in  the  least  consider  herein  the  ordinary  mathe- 
matics, but  that  I  am  revealing  another  method,  of 
which  they  are  rather  the  veil  than  the  inner  reality. 
Indeed  it  is  to  contain  the  first  elements  of  human 
reason,  and  to  aid  us  in  causing  the  truths  confined 
in  any  subject  to  come  forth  ;  and,  to  speak  freely,  I 
am  convinced  that  it  is  superior  to  every  other  human 
means  of  knowledge,  because  it  is  the  origin  and  the 


METHOD]      THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  69 

source  of  all  truths.  But  I  say  that  the  mathematics 
are  the  veil  of  this  method,  not  that  I  wish  to  hide  it 
and  wrap  it  up,  to  keep  it  from  the  vulgar ;  on  the  con- 
trary,  I  wish  to  clothe  and  adorn  it  in  such  a  manner 
that  it  shall  be  brought  more  within  the  grasp  of  the 
mind. 

When  I  began  to  devote  myself  to  mathematics,  I 
had  read  most  of  the  works  of  those  who  had  cultivated 
those  sciences,  and  by  preference  I  studied  arithmetic 
and  geometry,  because  they  were  said  to  be  the  most 
simple  and,  as  it  were,  the  key  to  all  the  other  sciences  j 
but  neither  in  the  one  nor  in  the  other  did  I  meet  with 
an  author  who  completely  satisfied  me.  I  saw  therein 
divers  propositions  respecting  numbers,  the  truth  of 
which,  after  the  calculation  was  performed,  I  recog- 
nized ;  as  to  geometrical  figures,  many  truths  were 
obvious  at  sight,  and  others  were  inferred  by  analogy  ; 
but  it  did  not  appear  to  me  to  be  said  with  sufficient 
clearness  to  the  mind  why  things  were  as  they  were 
shown  to  be,  and  by  what  means  the  discovery  of 
them  was  reached.  Accordingly,  I  was  not  more 
surprised  that  able  and  learned  men  should  abandon 
these  sciences,  when  they  had  hardly  blossomed  out,  as 
being  puerile  and  useless  forms  of  knowledge,  than 
that  they  should  be  reluctant  to  devote  themselves  to 
them  as  being  difficult  and  embarrassing  studies.  In- 
deed there  is  nothing  more  idle  than  to  occupy  one's 
self  with  numbers  and  imaginary  forms,  if  one  means 
to  stop  with  the  knowledge  of  such  trifles  ;  and  it  is 
idle  to  apply  one's  self  to  the  superficial  demonstra- 
tions of  them  which  chance  more  frequently  than  art 
has  brought  to  light — to  apply  one's  self  thereto,  I 
mean,  with  so  much  diligence  that  one  comes  to  dis- 
like, in  a  manner,  to  make  use  of  his  own  reason  ;  to 


70  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.  PART  I 

say  nothing  of  the  extreme  difficulty  of  disentangling, 
by  that  method,  from  the  confusion  of  the  numbers  in 
which  they  are  involved,  new  complications  which 
may  present  themselves. 

But  when,  on  the  other  hand,  I  asked  myself  why 
was  it  then  that  the  earliest  philosophers  would  admit 
to  the  study  of  wisdom  only  those  who  had  studied 
mathematics,  as  if  this  science  were  the  easiest  of  all 
and  the  one  most  necessary  for  preparing  and  disci- 
plining the  mind  to  comprehend  the  more  advanced,  I 
suspected  that  they  had  knowledge  of  a  certain  math- 
ematical science  different  from  that  of  our  times. 
Not  that  I  believe  that  they  had  a  perfect  knowl- 
edge of  it  ;  their  insensate  transports  and  their  religi- 
ous sacrifices  on  occasion  of  the  most  trivial  discoveries 
show  how  much  in  their  infancy  these  studies  then 
were.  I  am  not  more  impressed  by  the  eulogies  which 
historians  lavished  on  some  of  their  inventions,  be- 
cause, in  spite  of  their  simplicity,  it  is  well  understood 
that  the  ignorant  and  easily  astonished  multitude  had 
praised  them  as  prodigies.  But  I  am  persuaded  that 
certain  primitive  germs  of  truth  which  nature  has 
implanted  in  the  human  intellect,  which  we  smother 
in  ourselves  by  much  reading,  and  by  receiving  into 
our  minds  errors  so  many  and  various,  had,  in  that 
simple,  naive  antiquity,  so  much  vigor  and  vitality 
that  men  enlightened  by  that  light  of  reason,  which 
made  them  prefer  virtue  to  pleasures,  the  honorable  to 
the  useful,  although  they  might  not  know  the  reason 
of  this  preference,  formed  true  ideas  both  of  philos- 
ophy and  of  mathematics,  although  they  could  not  at 
that  time  advance  those  sciences  to  perfection. 

I  believe  I  find  some  traces  of  these  true  math- 
ematics in  Pappus  and  Diophantes,  who,  although  they 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  71 

are  not  of  extreme  antiquity,  lived  nevertheless  in 
times  long  preceding  ours.  But  I  willingly  believe 
that  these  writers  themselves,  by  a  culpable  ruse,  sup- 
pressed the  knowledge  of  them ;  like  some  artisans 
who  conceal  their  secret,  they  feared,  perhaps,  that  the 
ease  and  simplicity  of  their  method,  if  become  popu- 
lar, would  diminish  its  importance,  and  they  preferred 
to  make  themselves  admired  by  leaving  to  us,  as  the 
product  of  their  art,  certain  barren  truths  deduced 
with  subtlety,  rather  than  to  teach  us  that  art  itself,  the 
knowledge  of  which  would  end  our  admiration.  In- 
deed, certain  men  of  great  intellect  in  this  age  have 
attempted  to  disclose  this  method  ;  for  it  appears  to 
be  nothing  else  than  what  is  called  by  the  barbarous 
name  of  algebra,  which  needs  only  to  be  disengaged 
from  that  crowd  of  signs  and  those  unintelligible 
figures  which  overwhelm  it,  to  have  imparted  to  it  that 
clearness  and  supreme  facility  which,  in  our  view, 
ought  to  characterize  it  as  a  branch  of  true  mathe- 
matics. 

When  these  reflections  had  withdrawn  me  from  the 
special  study  of  arithmetic  and  geometry,  with  a  view 
to  summon  myself  to  the  search  for  a  science  of  math- 
ematics in  general,  I  asked  myself,  in  the  first  place, 
what  precisely  was  the  meaning  of  this  word  mathe- 
matics, and  why  arithmetic  and  geometry  only,  and 
not  also  astronomy,  music,  optics,  mechanics,  and  so 
many  other  sciences,  should  be  considered  as  forming 
a  part  of  it ;  for  it  is  not  enough  here  to  know  the 
etymology  of  the  word.  In  reality  the  word  mathe- 
matics meaning  nothing  but  science,  those  which  I 
have  just  named  have  as  much  right  as  geometry  to 
be  called  mathematics;  and  nevertheless  there  is  no 
one,  however  little  instructed,  who  cannot  distinguish 


72  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

at  once  what  belongs  to  mathematics,  properly  so 
called,  from  what  belongs  to  the  other  sciences.  But  on 
reflecting  attentively  upon  these  things,  I  discovered 
that  all  the  sciences  which  have  for  their  end  investi- 
gations concerning  order  and  measure,  are  related  to 
mathematics,  it  being  of  small  importance  whether 
this  measure  be  sought  in  numbers,  forms,  stars, 
sounds,  or  any  other  object ;  that,  accordingly,  there 
ought  to  exist  a  general  science  which  should  explain 
all  that  can  be  known  about  order  and  measure,  con- 
sidered independently  of  any  application  to  a  particu- 
lar subject,  and  that,  indeed,  this  science  has  its  own 
proper  name,  consecrated  by  long  usage,  to  wit, 
mathematics;  since  it  contains  that  in  consideration  of 
which  the  other  sciences  are  said  to  form  a  part  of 
mathematics.  And  a  proof  that  it  far  surpasses  in 
facility  and  importance  the  sciences  which  depend 
upon  it  is  that  it  embraces  at  once  all  the  objects  to 
which  these  are  devoted  and  a  great  many  others 
besides ;  and  consequently,  if  it  contain  any  difficul- 
ties, these  exist  in  the  rest,  which  have  themselves 
the  peculiar  ones  arising  from  their  particular  subject- 
matter,  and  which  do  not  exist  for  the  general  science. 
Now,  since  everybody  knows  the  name  of  this 
science,  since  the  object  of  it  is  conceived  without 
even  thinking  much  upon  it,  how  comes  it  about  that 
the  knowledge  of  other  sciences,  which  depend  upon 
this,  is  painfully  sought,  and  that  no  one  puts  himself 
to  the  trouble  of  studying  this  science  itself?  I  should 
certainly  be  surprised,  if  I  did  not  know  that  every- 
body regarded  it  as  being  very  easy,  and  if  I  had  not 
long  ago  observed  that  the  human  mind,  neglecting 
what  it  believes  to  be  easy,  is  always  in  haste  to  run 
after  what  is  novel  and  advanced.  As  for  me,  who 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  73 

am  conscious  of  my  weakness,  I  resolved,  in  the  pur- 
suit of  knowledge,  constantly  to  observe  such  an 
order  that,  beginning  always  with  the  simplest  and 
the  easiest  branches,  I  should  never  take  a  step  in 
advance  to  pass  on  to  others,  so  long  as  I  thought 
anything  was  still  to  be  desired  in  respect  to  the  first. 
That  is  why  I  have  cultivated,  up  to  this  day,  as  well 
as  I  was  able,  this  universal  mathematical  science,  so 
that  I  believe  I  am  able  to  devote  myself  in  the  future 
to  sciences  more  advanced,  with  no  fear  of  my  efforts 

being  premature 

RULE  V. — The  whole  method  consists  in  the  order 
and  arrangement  of  the  subjects  upon  which  the  mind 
is  to  exert  itself  with  the  view  to  attain  truth.  To 
follow  it,  //  is  necessary  to  reduce,  by  degrees,  compli- 
cated and  obscure  propositions  to  the  most  simple,  and 
to  proceed  again  from  the  intuition  of  these  last,  in 
order  to  arrive,  in  the  same  gradual  manner,  at  the 
knowledge  of  others.  The  perfection  of  method  con- 
sists in  this  alone,  and  this  rule  must  be  observed  as 
faithfully  by  him  who  would  enter  into  science  as  the 
thread  of  Theseus  must  be  held  by  one  who  would 
penetrate  the  labyrinth.  But  many  do  not  reflect  on 
what  method  directs  them  to  do,  or  else  ignore  it  com- 
pletely, or  take  it  for  granted  that  they  have  no  need 
of  it  ;  and  they  often  discuss  the  most  difficult 
subjects  with  so  little  order  that  they  may  be 
likened  to  one  who  would  spring  to  the  top  of  a  high 
building  at  a  bound,  paying  no  attention  to  the  stair- 
way which  leads  up  to  it,  or  not  perceiving  that  there 
is  any.  In  this  way  the  astrologers  proceed  who,  with- 
out knowing  the  nature  of  the  stars,  without  even  hav- 
ing carefully  observed  their  motions,  hope  to  be  able 
to  determine  their  influences.  In  the  same  way  pro- 


74  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

ceed  many  who  study  mechanics  without  understand- 
ing physics,  and  undertake  in  a  haphazard  way  to 
make  new  machines  ;  and  most  philosophers  do  the 
same  thing  who,  neglecting  the  study  of  facts,  imagine 
that  truth  will  spring  out  of  their  brains,  like  Minerva 
from  the  head  of  Jupiter 

RULE  VI. — To  distinguish  the  simpler  things  from 
those  which  are  more  complex,  it  is  necessary,  in  every 
series  of  objects,  or  in  every  case  where  ive  have  deduced 
some  truths  from  others,  to  take  note  of  the  simplest  of 
all,  and  to  observe  how  all  the  rest  stand  removed  from 
this,  whether  more  or  less  or  equally. 

Although  this  rule  may  appear  to  teach  nothing  new, 
it  nevertheless  contains  the  whole  secret  of  the  method, 
and  there  is  none  more  useful  in  this  entire  treatise. 
It  teaches  us  that  all  things  may  be  arranged  in  differ- 
ent series,  not  in  so  far  as  they  belong  to  some  kind  of 
existence  (a  division  which  finds  place  in  the  categor- 
ies of  philosophers),  but  in  so  far  as  they  can  be  under- 
stood one  by  means  of  another,  so  that,  when  we  en- 
counter a  difficulty,  we  can  tell  whether  it  concerns 
things  in  which  it  is  for  our  advantage  to  examine 
those  preceding,  up  to  the  first,  and  in  what  order 
this  must  be  done.  But  in  order  to  do  this  rightly,  it 
must  be  observed  at  once  that  in  view  of  the  applica- 
tion of  our  rule, — which  does  not  consider  things  in 
isolation,  but  compares  them  one  with  another,  in  order 
to  understand  one  by  means  of  another, — they  maybe 
called  either  absolute  or  relative.  I  call  absolute  what- 
ever is  a  simple,  indecomposable  element  of  the  sub- 
ject* under  consideration  ;  as,  for  example,  all  that  is 
viewed  as  being  independent,  viz.,  cause,  simple,  univer- 
sal, one,  equal,  similar,  right,  etc. ;  and  I  say  that  what- 
ever is  more  simple  is  whatever  is  more  easy  to  compre- 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  75 

head,  and  what  we  might  make  use  of  in  the  solution 
of  problems.  I  call  relative  whatever  is  of  the  same 
nature,  or  at  least  by  one  side  is  joined  to  the  absolute, 
so  that  it  can  be  traced  to  it  and  deduced  from  it. 
But  this  term  includes  also  certain  other  things  which 
I  call  relations,  such  as  all  that  is  embraced  under  the 
terms  dependent,  viz.,  effect,  composite,  particular, 
multiple,  unequal,  dissimilar,  oblique,  etc.  These  rela- 
tions are  removed  from  the  absolute  in  proportion  as 
they  contain  the  greater  number  of  relations  subordi- 
nate to  them — relations  which  our  rule  recommends 
that  we  distinguish  one  from  another,  and  take  note 
of,  in  their  connections  and  mutual  order,  so  that  by 
proceeding  step  by  step  through  all  we  may  be  able 
to  arrive  in  due  succession  at  that  which  is  most  ab- 
solute. 

But  the  whole  art  consists  in  seeking  always  for  the 
most  absolute.  In  reality,  certain  things  seen  from 
one  point  of  view  are  more  absolute  than  as  seen  from 
another  ;  and  looked  at  in  another  way,  they  are  more 
relative.  Thus  the  universal  is  more  absolute  than 
the  particular,  because  its  nature  is  more  simple  ;  but 
at  the  same  time  it  can  be  said  to  be  more  relative,  be- 
cause it  requires  individuals  for  its  existence.  More- 
over, certain  things  are  indeed  more  absolute  than 
others,  but  not  the  most  absolute  of  all.  If  we  regard 
individuals,  the  species  is  absolute  ;  if  we  regard  the 
genus,  it  is  relative.  In  mensurable  bodies,  extension 
is  the  absolute  ;  but,  in  extension,  it  is  length,  etc. 
Indeed,  to  make  it  more  apparent  that  we  are  con- 
sidering things  here,  not  in  respect  to  their  individual 
nature,  but  in  respect  to  the  series  in  which  we  place 
them  in  order  to  understand  one  by  means  of  another, 
we  have  designedly  put  in  the  number  of  things  abso- 


76  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

lute,  cause  and  equality,  although  by  their  nature  they 
are  relatives  ;  for,  in  the  language  of  philosophers, 
cause  and  effect  are  two  correlative  terms.  Neverthe- 
less, if  we  wish  to  know  what  effect  is,  we  must  first 
know  what  cause  is,  and  not  effect  before  cause.  So 
things  equal  correspond  to  one  another  ;  but  to  know 
the  unequal,  it  must  be  compared  with  the  equal. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  in  the  second  place,  that  there 
are  a  few  simple  necessary  elements  that  we  can  per- 
ceive  by  themselves,  independently  of  all  others,  I  do 
not  say  at  first,  but  by  the  aid  of  experience  and  the 
lighjt  which  is  in  us.  Also  I  say  that  it  is  necessary 
to  observe  these  with  care  ;  for  it  is  these  which  we 
call  the  most  simple  of  each  series.  All  the  rest  can 
be  perceived  only  by  deducing  them  from  these, 
whether  immediately  and  proximately,  or  after  one  or 
two  conclusions  or  a  greater  number, — conclusions  the 
number  of  which  it  is  necessary  still  to  note,  in  order 
to  know  whether  they  are  removed  by  more  or  fewer 
steps  from  the  first  and  simplest  proposition  ;  such 
throughout  must  be  the  concatenation,  which  is  to 
produce  that  orderly  succession  of  problems  to 
which  every  inquiry  methodically  conducted  must 
be  reduced.  But  inasmuch  as  it  is  not  easy  to 
recall  all  these  steps,  and  it  is  less  important  to  retain 
them  in  memory  than  to  be  able  by  a  certain  penetra- 
tion of  mind  to  discern  them,  it  is  necessary  to  train 
the  mind  so  that  it  shall  be  able  to  retrace  them  when 
there  is  need.  But  I  have  discovered  that  the  best 
way  to  succeed  in  this  is  to  accustom  ourselves  to  re- 
flect with  attention  on  the  least  things  which  we  have 
previously  ascertained. 

Let  us  observe,  in  the  third  place,  that  it  is  not 
necessary  to  begin  our  investigation  by  an  inquiry  into 


METHOD]         THE    DIRECTION    OF    THE   MIND.  77 

difficult  matters  ;  but  before  undertaking  a  problem, 
to  take  at  random  and  without  deliberation  the  first 
truths  which  present  themselves,  to  see  whether  from 
these  others  may  not  be  deduced,  and  from  these 
latter  others  still,  and  so  on.  This  done,  we  must 
reflect  attentively  on  the  truths  already  found,  and 
carefully  observe  why  we  were  able  to  discover  some 
before  the  rest,  and  more  easily,  and  note  what  they 
are.  Thus,  when  we  approach  any  question  whatever, 
we  shall  know  with  what  inquiry  it  will  be  necessary 
to  begin.  For  example,  I  see  that  the  number  6  is 
the  double  of  3  ;  I  seek  the  double  of  6,  that  is  to  say 
12  ;  I  seek  next  the  double  of  this,  that  is  to  say  24, 
and  of  that,  or  48  ;  and  thence  I  deduce,  which  is  not 
difficult,  that  there  is  the  same  proportion  between  3 
and  6  as  between  6  and  1 2,  and  between  1 2  and  24,  etc., 
and  thus  the  numbers  3,  6,  12,  24,  48,  are  in  a  continu- 
ous proportion.  Although  all  these  things  are  so  sim- 
ple that  they  seem  almost  puerile,  they  explain  to  me, 
when  I  reflect  upon  them  attentively,  how  complicated 
are  all  questions  having  to  do  with  proportions,  and 
with  the  relations  of  things,  and  in  what  order  their 
solution  is  to  be  sought,  which  contains  the  whole 
science  of  the  pure  mathematics 

RULE  VII. — In  order  to  make  knowledge  complete,  it 
is  necessary  the  mind  should  run  over,  in  a  movement  un- 
interrupted atid  orderly,  all  matters  pertaining  to  the  end 
in  view,  and  then  sum  them  up  in  a  methodical  and 
sufficient  enumeration. 

The  observance  of  this  rule  is  necessary  to  enable 
one  to  place  among  certainties  those  truths  which,  as 
we  have  said  above,  are  not  immediately  deduced  from 
self-evident  principles.  They  are  reached,  indeed,  by 
means  of  a  train  of  consequences  so  long  that  it  is  not 


78  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

easy  to  retrace  the  path  we  have  followed.  Accord- 
ingly we  say  that  the  faculty  of  memory  must  be  aided 
by  a  constant  effort  of  thought.  If,  for  example, 
after  various  operations,  I  discover  the  relation  be- 
tween the  quantities  A  and  B,  then  between  B  and  C, 
next  between  C  and  D,  finally  between  D  and  E,  I  do 
not  thereby  perceive  the  relation  between  A  and  E, 
and  I  cannot  with  certainty  infer  it  from  the  relations 
known,  unless  my  memory  represents  them  all  to  me. 
So  1  run  through  the  series  in  such  a  way  that  imagi- 
nation at  the  same  time  sees  one  and  passes  on  to  the 
next,  until  I  can  go  from  first  to  last  with  such  rapidity 
that,  almost  without  the  aid  of  memory,  I  can  seize 
the  whole  at  one  glance.  This  method,  while  relieving 
the  memory,  corrects  the  sluggishness  of  the  mind  and 
enlarges  its  range.  I  add  that  the  movement  of  the 
mind  must  not  be  interrupted  ;  often  those  who 
try  to  draw  conclusions  too  rapidly  from  remote  prin- 
ciples are  unable  to  follow  the  chain  of  intermediate 
deductions  with  sufficient  care  to  prevent  some  escap- 
ing them.  And  yet,  if  one  consequence,  though  it  be 
the  least  important  of  all,  has  been  forgotten,  the  chain 
is  broken,  and  the  certainty  of  the  conclusion  is 
shaken. 

I  say  further  that  knowledge  needs  enumeration  to 
complete  it.  Indeed,  the  other  precepts  are  of  use  in 
solving  an  infinity  of  problems  ;  but  enumeration  alone 
can  enable  us  to  pass,  upon  any  subject  which  may  en- 
gage our  attention,  a  safe  and  well-founded  judgment, 
in  consequence  of  its  allowing  absolutely  nothing  to 
escape,  and  having  certain  evidence  in  respect  to 
everything.  But  enumeration,  or  induction,  here 
means  careful  and  exact  scrutiny  of  all  that  relates  to 
the  question  proposed.  But  this  scrutiny  must  be 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  79 

such  that  we  can  conclude  with  certainty  that  we  have 
omitted  nothing  by  oversight.  When,  then,. we  have 
employed  it,  and  still  the  difficulty  is  not  cleared  up,  \ve 
shall  be  at  least  so  much  the  wiser  that  we  shall  know 
that  the  solution  cannot  be  reached  by  any  of  the 
ways  known  to  us  ;  and  if  perchance — what  may  often 
enough  happen — we  have  been  able  to  traverse  all  the 
paths  open  to  man  for  arriving  at  truth,  we  shall  be 
able  to  say  with  assurance  that  the  solution  surpasses 
the  range  of  human  intelligence.  It  must  be  observed 
further  that  by  sufficient  enumeration  or  induction  we 
understand  the  means  which  conduct  us  to  truth  more 
surely  than  any  other,  except  intuition  pure  and  sim- 
ple. Indeed,  if  the  case  is  such  that  we  cannot  take 
it  back  to  intuition,  we  must  not  rely  upon  syllogistic 
forms,  but  upon  induction  alone.  For  in  all  cases 
when  we  have  deduced  propositions  immediately  one 
from  another,  if  the  deduction  has  been  evident,  they 
will  be  traceable  to  a  true  intuition.  But  if  we  deduce 
a  proposition  from  numerous  other  propositions, 
disconnected  and  multiform,  it  frequently  happens 
that  our  intellectual  capacity  is  not  such  that  it 
can  take  in  the  whole  at  one  view  ;  in  this  case  we 
must  be  satisfied  with  the  certainty  of  the  induction. 
Just  as  when  we  are  unable  at  one  glance  to  take  in 
all  the  links  of  a  long  chain,  yet  if  we  have  seen  that 
each  is  linked  to  the  next,  this  warrants  us  in  saying 

that  the  first  is  joined  to  the  last 

But  in  some  cases  this  enumeration  must  be  com- 
plete, in  others  distinct;  in  others  it  need  have  neither 
of  these  two  characters,  but,  as  I  have  said,  it  must  be 
sufficient.  For  example,  if  I  wish  to  prove  how  many 
corporeal  or  sensible  existences  there  are,  I  shall  not 
say  that  there  is  such  a  number,  neither  more  nor 


8o  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

less,  until  I  certainly  know  that  I  have  taken  every 
one  into  account  and  distinguished  each  from  the 
others.  But  if  I  wish,  by  the  same  method,  to  prove 
that  the  rational  soul  is  not  corporeal,  it  will  not  be 
necessary  for  the  enumeration  to  be  complete  ;  but 
it  will  be  sufficient  if  I  collect  all  bodies  under  certain 
classes,  and  show  that  the  soul  cannot  belong  to  any 
one  of  them.  If,  finally,  I  wish  to  demonstrate  by 
enumeration  that  the  superficies  of  a  circle  is  greater 
than  that  of  any  other  figure  of  equal  perimeter,  I 
shall  not  pass  in  review  all  the  figures,  but  I  shall 
content  myself  with  the  proof  of  what  I  lay  down 
concerning  certain  figures,  and  conclude  the  same  by 
induction  for  all  the  rest.  I  said  further  that  the 
enumeration  should  be  methodical,  because  there  is 
no  better  way  of  avoiding  the  defects  of  which  we 
have  spoken  than  to  introduce  order  into  our  in- 
quiries, and  because,  if  we  had  to  seek  by  itself  each 
thing  related  to  the  principal  object  of  our  inquiry, 
it  would  frequently  happen  that  a  whole  lifetime 
would  be  insufficient  for  it,  whether  on  account  of  the 
number  of  the  objects  or  the  frequent  recurrence  of 
the  same  objects.  But  if  we  arrange  all  things  in  the 
best  order,  they  will  be  seen  most  frequently  to  form 
fixed  and  determinate  classes,  of  which  it  will  be 
sufficient  to  know  one  only,  or  to  know  this  rather 
than  that,  or  simply  something  of  one  of  them  ;  and 
at  least  we  shall  not  have  to  retrace  our  steps  to  no 
purpose.  This  method  is  so  good  that  by  means  of 
it  one  may  in  the  end  attain  without  difficulty,  and  in 
a  short  time,  a  knowledge  which  at  the  start  might 
have  seemed  immense. 

Finally  our  last  three  propositions  must  not  be  sepa- 
rated, but  must  be  kept  all  together  before  the  mind, 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  81 

because  they  contribute  equally  to  the  perfection  of 
the  method.  It  matters  little  which  we  place  first ; 
and  if  we  do  not  here  develop  them  further,  it  is  be- 
cause that  in  the  remainder  of  this  treatise  we  have 
scarcely  anything  else  to  do  than  to  explain  them, 
by  showing  the  particular  application  of  the  general 
principles  we  have  just  laid  down. 

RULE  VIII. — If  in  the  course  of  our  investigations 
anything  presents  itself  which  the  mind  cannot  perfectly 
comprehend.,  we  must  stop  at  that  point  and  not  examine 
what  comes  next,  but  spare  ourselves  fruitless  labor. 

This  rule  follows  necessarily  from  reasons  which 
support  the  second.  Yet  it  must  not  be  regarded 
as  containing  nothing  new  for  the  advancement  of 
knowledge,  although  it  might  seem  merely  to  dissuade 
us  from  the  pursuit  of  certain  things  ;  nor  that  it 
teaches  no  truth  whatever,  because  it  appears  merely 
to  warn  students  not  to  lose  their  time,  by  almost  the 
same  motive  as  the  second.  But  those  who  perfectly 
comprehend  the  seven  preceding  rules  can  by  this 
learn  how  in  every  science  it  is  possible  for  them  to 
reach  a  point  beyond  which  there  remains  nothing 
further  to  be  desired.  He,  in  fact,  who  in  the  solution 
of  a  difficulty  has  followed  exactly  the  preceding  rules, 
warned  by  this  to  stop  somewhere,  will  understand 
that  there  is  no  means  of  attaining  what  he  is  seeking; 
and  that  not  through  any  defect  of  his  mind,  but  on 
account  of  the  nature  of  the  difficulty,  or  of  our  human 
limitations.  But  the  recognition  of  this  fact  is  no  less 
a  part  of  true  knowledge  than  whatever  throws  light 
on  the  nature  of  things,  and  surely  it  is  no  proof  of  a 
good  mind  to  urge  its  curiosity  beyond  this  point. 

Let  us  illustrate  all  this  by  one  or  two  examples. 
If  a  man  versed  only  in  mathematics  is  investi- 


82  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

gating  the  line  called  in  dioptrics  the  anaclastic^  in 
which  parallel  rays  are  refracted  in  such  a  manner 
that  after  refraction  they  all  meet  in  one  point,  he 
will  easily  see,  according  to  the  fifth  and  sixth  rules, 
that  the  determination  of  this  line  depends  on  the 
relation  of  the  angles  of  refraction  to  the  angles  of 
incidence.  But  when  he  finds  himself  unable  to  make 
this  investigation,  which  does  not  come  within  the 
jurisdiction  of  mathematics,  but  of  physics,  he  ought 
to  stop  there,  where  it  would  be  of  no  avail  to  seek 
the  solution  of  the  difficulty  from  philosophers  and 
from  experience.  In  accepting  the  opinions  of  others 
he  would  violate  the  third  rule.  Besides,  the  case  is 
composite  and  relative ;  whereas  it  is  only  in  things 
simple  and  absolute  that  we  ought  to  accept  experi- 
ence (as  authority),  a  position  we  shall  make  good  in 
its  proper  place.  Further,  it  will  be  to  no  purpose  for 
him  to  suppose  among  these  various  angles  a  relation 
which  he  shall  suspect  to  be  the  true  one  ;  that  would 
not  be  seeking  the  anaclastic,  but  merely  a  line  which 
might  tally  with  his  supposition. 

But  if  a  man  knowing  something  besides  mathe- 
matics, desiring  to  know  the  truth,  according  to  the 
first  rule,  about  everything  which  may  present  itself 
to  him,  has  met  with  the  same  difficulty,  he  will  go  on 
further,  and  will  find  out  that  the  relation  between 
the  angles  of  incidence  and  the  angles  of  refraction 
depends  upon  their  variation  occasioned  by  the  vary- 
ing of  the  media  ;  that  this  variation  in  its  turn  depends 
on  the  medium,  because  the  ray  of  light  penetrates 
through  the  whole  of  the  transparent  body ;  he  will 
see  that  this  property  of  thus  penetrating  a  body  re- 
quires the  nature  of  light  to  be  understood  ;  that 
finally,  to  understand  the  nature  of  light,  it  is  neces- 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  83 

sary  to  know  what  in  general  a  natural  power  is,  the 
last  and  most  absolute  term  of  this  whole  series  of 
inquiries.  After  he  has  seen  all  these  propositions 
clearly,  by  the  aid  of  intuition,  he  will  go  back  over 
the  same  steps  again,  according  to  the  fifth  rule  ;  and  if 
at  the  second  step  he  cannot  at  once  comprehend  the 
nature  of  light,  he  will  enumerate,  according  to  the 
seventh  rule,  all  the  other  natural  powers,  in  order 
that  through  the  knowledge  of  one  of  them  he  may 
be  able  at  least  to  deduce  by  analogy  the  knowledge 
of  the  one  of  which  he  is  ignorant.  This  done,  he 
will  inquire  how  the  ray  of  light  traverses  a  perfectly 
transparent  medium,  and,  thus  following  the  order  of 
the  propositions,  he  will  at  last  arrive  at  the  anaclas- 
tic  itself,  which  many  philosophers,  it  is  true,  have 
hitherto  sought  in  vain,  but  which,  in  our  opinion, 
presents  no  difficulty  to  him  who  will  avail  himself  of 
our  method. 

But  let  us  give  the  noblest  example  of  all.  Let  a 
man  propose  to  himself,  as  a  problem,  the  investiga- 
tion of  all  the  truths  of  the  knowledge  of  which 
the  human  mind  is  capable,  a  problem  which,  in  my 
opinion,  all  those  who  are  in  earnest  in  their  desire 
to  attain  wisdom,  ought,  at  least  once  in  their  lives, 
to  propose  to  themselves  ;  he  will  find,  by  the  help  of 
the  rules  I  have  given,  that  the  first  thing  to  be 
known  is  intelligence  itself,  since  upon  this  depends 
the  knowledge  of  all  other  things,  and  not  recipro- 
cally. Next  investigating  what  immediately  follows 
the  knowledge  of  pure  intellect,  he  will  pass  in  re- 
view all  the  other  means  of  knowing  which  we  pos- 
sess, intellect  excepted  ;  he  will  find  that  there  are 
only  two,  imagination  and  the  senses.  He  will  then 
give  his  whole  attention  to  the  examination  and  dis- 


84  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

tinction  of  these  three  means  of  knowing  ;  and  per- 
ceiving that,  properly  speaking,  truth  and  error  can 
exist  only  in  the  intellectual  activity  by  itself,  and 
that  the  other  two  modes  of  knowing  furnish  only 
the  occasions  for  its  exercise,  he  will  carefully  avoid 
all  that  can  lead  him  astray,  and  he  will  consider  all 
the  ways  open  to  man  for  arriving  at  truth,  in  order 
to  follow  the  right  one.  But  these  are  not  so  numer- 
ous that  he  cannot  easily  discover  them  all  by  a  suffi- 
cient enumeration 

But  there  is  here  no  question  more  important  to  be 
settled  than  to  know  what  human  knowledge  is,  and 
how  far  it  extends,*  two  things  which  we  combine  in 
one  and  the  same  question,  which  must  be  considered 
before  anything  else,  according  to  the  rules  given 
above.  There  is  here  a  question  which  a  man  must 
examine  once  in  his  life,  if  he  love  the  truth,  though 
but  little,  because  this  inquiry  contains  the  whole 
method  and,  as  it  were,  the  true  instrument  of  science. 
Nothing  appears  to  me  more  absurd  than  boldly  to 
argue  concerning  the  mysteries  of  nature,  the  influ- 
ence of  the  stars,  the  secrets  of  the  future,  without 
once  having  raised  the  question  whether  the  human 
mind  is  competent  to  these  things.  And  it  should 
not  seem  to  us  a  difficult  and  arduous  task  thus  to  fix 
the  limits  of  our  mind  of  which  we  have  conscious- 
ness, when  we  are  deliberating  about  passing  a  judg- 
ment upon  things  external  to  us,  and  which  are  com- 
pletely foreign  to  us.  It  is  not  a  labor  any  greater 
than  to  seek  to  embrace  in  thought  the  objects  which 

*  Cf.  Kuno  Fischer,  Descartes  and  his  School,  p.  495  trans.  ; 
Locke's  Essay  Upon  the  Human  Understanding,  Epistle  to  the 
Reader;  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Introduction. 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  85 

this  world  includes,  in  order  to  understand  how  each 
of  them  may  be  comprehended  by  our  mind.  In  re- 
ality there  is  nothing  so  multiform  and  so  scattered 
which  cannot  be  brought  within  certain  limits,  and  re- 
duced to  a  certain  number  of  main  divisions,  by  means 
of  the  enumeration  we  have  described.  To  make  trial 
of  it,  in  the  question  above  proposed,  we  shall  divide 
into  two  parts  all  that  relates  thereto  ;  it  is  relative, 
in  fact,  either  to  us,  who  have  the  capacity  of  know- 
ing  ;  or  to  things,  which  may  be  known  :  these  two 
points  shall  be  treated  separately.  And  at  the  out- 
set we  observe  that  in  us  intellect  alone  is  capable  of 
knowledge,  but  that  it  may  be  hindered  or  helped  by 
three  other  faculties  ;  to  wit,  imagination,  the  senses, 
and  memory.  It  is  necessary  then  to  see  succes- 
sively, wherein  these  faculties  can  harm  us,  in  order 
to  avoid  it,  and  wherein  they  can  serve  us,  in  order  to 
profit  by  it.  This  first  point  shall  be  completely 
treated  by  a  sufficient  enumeration,  according  as  the 
following  rule  shall  make  it  appear. 

It  is  then  necessary  to  pass  to  objects  themselves,  and 
to  consider  them  only  in  so  far  as  our  intelligence  can 
deal  with  them.  Under  this  relation  we  divide  them  into 
things  simple  and  things  complex  or  composite.  The 
simple  can  be  only  spiritual  or  corporeal,  or  spiritual 
and  corporeal  at  the  same  time.  The  composite  are  of 
two  sorts;  the  one  the  mind  discovers  before  it  is  able 
to  say  anything  positive  of  them ;  it  constructs  the 
other  itself,  a  process  which  shall  be  set  forth  more  at 
length  in  the  twelfth  rule,  where  it  will  be  shown  that 
error  can  be  found  only  in  things  which  the  intellect  has 
put  together.  Let  us  also  divide  these  last  into  two 
species,  those  which  are  deduced  from  things  the  most 


86  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.  [PART  I 

simple,  which  are  known  by  themselves ;  to  which  we 
devote  the  next  book  *  :  and  those  which  presuppose 
others,  which  experience  teaches  us  are  essentially  com- 
posite ;  the  third  book  shall  be  entirely  devoted  to 
them.  But  in  this  entire  treatise  we  shall  attempt  to 
follow  with  exactness  and  make  plain  the  paths  which 
can  conduct  man  to  the  discovery  of  truth,  so  that  the 
most  ordinary  mind,  provided  it  shall  be  profoundly 
penetrated  with  this  method,  shall  see  that  truth  is  in- 
terdicted to  him  no  more  than  to  anybody  else,  and  that 
if  he  is  ignorant  of  anything  it  is  not  the  fault  of  his 
mind  or  of  his  capacity. f  But  whenever  he  shall  desire 
to  know  anything,  either  he  will  discover  it  at  once, 
or,  perhaps,  he  will  find  that  his  knowledge  depends 
on  an  experiment  which  it  is  not  within  his  power  to 
make  ;  and  then  he  will  not  blame  his  mind  because 
it  is  forced  to  arrest  its  activity  so  soon  ;  or,  finally, 
he  will  perceive  that  the  thing  sought  lies  beyond  the 
range  of  human  intellect,  and,  in  that  case,  he  will  not 
think  himself  more  ignorant,  because  to  have  arrived 
at  this  result  is  in  itself  a  piece  of  knowledge  worth 
as  much  as  another. 

RULE  IX. — //  is  necessary  to  direct  the  whole  energy  of 
the  mind  upon  things  which  are  easiest  and  least  impor- 
tant, and  to  hold  it  there  for  a  long  time  until  the  habit  is 
acquired  of  seeing  truth  clearly  and  distinctly. 

*  The  second  and  third  books  probably  were  never  written. 

•j-  Cf.  Lord  Bacon's  estimate  of  the  value  of  his  own  method. 
"  Our  method  of  discovering  the  sciences  is  such  as  to  leave  little 
to  the  acuteness  and  strength  of  wit,  and  indeed  rather  to  level 
wit  and  intellect.  For  as  in  the  drawing  of  a  straight  line  or  ac- 
curate circle  by  the  hand,  much  depends  upon  its  steadiness  and 
practice,  but  if  a  ruler  or  compass  be  employed  there  is  little  occa- 
sion for  either  ;  so  it  is  with  our  method. " — Novum  Organum, 
bk.  i,  61. 


METHOD]         THE    DIRECTION    OF    THE    MIND.  87 

Having  set  forth  the  two  mental  operations,  intui- 
tion and  deduction,  the  only  ones  which  can  conduct 
us  to  knowledge,  we  shall  continue  to  explain,  in  this 
rule  and  the  next,  the  means  by  which  we  can  become 
skillful  in  the  performance  of  these  processes,  and  at 
the  same  time  cultivate  the  two  principal  talents  of 
the  mind,  viz.,  perspicacity,  through  the  distinct  en- 
visaging of  each  thing,  and  sagacity,  through  the  skill- 
ful deducing  of  one  thing  from  another.  The  way  in 
which  we  use  our  eyes  is  sufficient  to  make  us  under- 
stand how  to  employ  intuition.  He  who  is  bent  on 
taking  in  many  things  at  one  look  sees  nothing  dis- 
tinctly ;  in  the  same  way,  he  who,  in  one  act  of 
thought,  would  attend  to  many  objects  at  once,  con- 
fuses his  mind.  On  the  other  hand,  workmen  who 
are  employed  on  delicate  operations,  and  who  are  ac- 
customed to  look  attentively  at  each  point  in  particular, 
acquire,  by  practice,  the  ability  to  see  the  smallest  and 
finest  objects.  Likewise  those  who  do  not  expend 
their  thought  upon  a  thousand  different  things,  but 
who  employ  its  whole  energy  in  the  consideration  of 
the  simplest  and  easiest,  acquire  great  quickness  of 
apprehension 

RULE  X. — In  order  that  the  mind  may  acquire  facility, 
it  must  be  exercised  in  finding  out  things  which  others 
have  already  discovered,  and  in  practicing  in  a  methodical 
way  even  the  commonest  arts,  especially  those  which  exhibit 
order  or  require  it. 

I  confess  that  I  was  born  with  such  a  mental  dispo- 
sition that  my  greatest  happiness  in  studies  consisted 
not  in  following  the  arguments  of  others,  but  in  finding 
them  out  for  myself.  This  disposition  of  itself,  while 
I  was  still  young,  interested  me  in  scientific  studies  ; 
and  whenever  any  book  promised  me  by  its  title  a 


THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

new  discovery,  before  going  on  to  read  it  I  tried 
whether  my  own  natural  sagacity  might  not  be  able 
to  conduct  me  to  something  similar,  and  I  took  great 
care  that  too  much  reading  should  not  beguile  me  of 
this  innocent  pleasure.  I  succeeded  in  this  so  many 
times  that  I  was  conscious  at  last  of  reaching  truth 
no  longer  as  other  men  do,  after  blind  and  uncertain 
efforts,  rather  by  a  stroke  of  good  luck  than  by  art, 
but  long  experience  taught  me  certain  fixed  rules,  which 
aid  me  wonderfully,  and  of  which  I  have  reaped  the 
advantage  in  finding  out  many  truths.  Accordingly 
I  have  practiced  this  method  with  diligence,  persuaded 
that  from  the  beginning  I  have  followed  the  most  use- 
ful course. 

But  inasmuch  as  all  minds  are  not  equally  qualified 
to  discover  truth  by  themselves  atone,  this  rule 
teaches  us  that  one  must  not  occupy  himself  at  the 
start  with  the  most  difficult  and  arduous  subjects, 
but  begin  with  arts  the  least  important  and  the  most 
simple, — those,  above  all,  where  order  reigns,  such  as 
the  trades  of  the  maker  of  tapestry,  of  the  weaver,  of 
the  women  who  embroider  or  make  lace ;  such  as, 
also,  combinations  of  numbers,  and  everything  which 
relates  to  arithmetic  :  as  many  other  similar  arts, 
which  as  wonderfully  exercise  the  mind,  provided  we 
are  not  indebted  to  others  for  the  knowledge  of  them, 
but  discover  them  for  ourselves.  Indeed,  while  they 
contain  nothing  obscure,  and  are  perfectly  within  the 
range  of  human  intelligence,  they  make  distinctly 
manifest  to  us  innumerable  methods,  diverse  from  each 
other,  and  nevertheless  regular.  But  it  is  in  the  rig- 
orous observance  of  sequence  that  almost  all  human 
sagacity  consists.  Accordingly  we  have  enjoined  the 
necessity  of  examining  these  things  methodically  ;  but 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  89 

method,  in  these  subordinate  arts,  is  nothing  else 
than  the  constant  observance  of  the  order  which 
exists  in  them,  or  which  a  happy  invention  has  put 
there 

It  is  necessary,  then,  to  make  a  beginning  with  easy 
things,  but  with  method,  in  order  to  accustom  our- 
selves to  penetrate  by  means  of  open  and  familiar 
paths,  as  if  in  sport,  to  the  innermost  truth  of  these 
things.  By  this  means  we  shall,  insensibly  and  in 
a  shorter  time  than  we  might  expect,  become  capa- 
ble of  deducing  with  equal  facility  from  self-evident 
principles  a  great  number  of  propositions  which  might 
seem  to  us  very  difficult  and  very  complicated.  Many 
persons,  perhaps,  are  surprised  that,  while  we  are 
considering  the  means  whereby  we  are  enabled  to 
deduce  truths  one  from  another,  we  omit  to  speak  of 
the  rules  of  the  logicians,  who  think  to  direct  human 
reason  by  prescribing  to  it  certain  formulas  of  reason- 
ing so  conclusive  that  the  mind  which  trusts  to  their 
guidance,  although  it  may  dispense  with  giving  close 
attention  to  the  deduction  itself,  is  yet  enabled  by 
the  form  alone  to  reach  a  certain  conclusion.  We 
observe  however  that  truth  often  escapes  the  confining 
forms,  while  those  who  employ  them  remain  bound 
by  them.  This  does  not  happen  so  often  to  those 
who  do  not  make  use  of  them,  and  our  experience 
proves  that  the  most  subtle  sophisms  deceive  only 
the  sophists,  almost  never  those  who  use  their  simple 
reason. 

Accordingly,  fearing  that  reason  may  give  us  the 
slip  when  we  are  on  the  search  for  truth  in  some 
matter,  we  reject  all  these  formulas  as  opposed  to 
our  design,  and  collect  together  only  what  will  help 
us  in  keeping  our  thought  attentive,  as  we  shall 


go  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

show  in  the  sequel.  But  to  produce  the  more  com- 
plete conviction  that  this  syllogistic  art  is  of  no  use 
in  the  discovery  of  truth,  it  needs  only  to  be  observed 
that  logicians  cannot  form  a  syllogism  yielding  a  truth 
in  its  conclusion  without  having  the  matter  of  it 
beforehand,  that  is  to  say,  without  having  known  in 
advance  the  truth  which  the  syllogism  develops. 
Whence  it  follows  that  this  form  can  yield  them 
nothing  new  ;  and,  therefore,  that  the  common  logic  is 
entirely  useless  to  him  who  wishes  to  discover  truth, 
but  is  of  advantage  only  in  setting  forth  more  readily 
to  others  truths  already  known,  and,  therefore,  it 
should  be  transferred  from  philosophy  to  rhetoric. 

RULE  XI. —  When  by  intuition  we  have  assured  our- 
selves of  the  truth  of  certain  simple  propositions,  if  we 
are  to  proceed  to  draw  conclusions  therefrom,  it  is  of  no 
use  to  go  on  without  arresting  for  a  moment  the  progress 
of  our  thought,  hi  order  to  reflect  upon  the  mutual  rela- 
tions of  these  truths,  and  to  bring  as  many  as  possible  of 
these  relations  before  the  mind  in  one  view :  by  this 
means  we  give  to  our  knowledge  more  certainty  and  to 
our  thought  greater  breadth. 

Here  is  the  place  to  explain  more  clearly  what  we 
have  said  of  intuition  in  the  third  and  seventh  rules. 
In  the  one  we  opposed  it  to  deduction,  in  the  other 
merely  to  enumeration,  which  we  defined  the  collect- 
ing together  of  many  distinct  things,  while  the  simple 
operation  of  deducing  of  one  thing  from  another  was 
accomplished  by  intuition.  This  must  be  the  case  ; 
for  we  require  two  conditions  for  intuition,  to  wit,  that 
the  proposition  should  appear  clear  and  distinct,  next 
that  it  be  comprehended  as  a  whole  at  once  and  not 
part  by  part.  Deduction,  on  the  contrary,  if  we  are 
considering  its  formation,  as  in  the  third  rule,  does 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  91 

not  appear  to  operate  instantaneously,  but  it  implies 
a  certain  movement  of  the  mind  inferring  one  thing 
from  another  ;  accordingly  in  that  rule  we  were  right 
in  distinguishing  it  from  intuition.  But  if  we  con- 
sider it  as  accomplished,  in  accordance  with  what  we 
said  in  the  seventh  rule,  then  it  no  longer  designates 
a  movement,  but  the  limit  of  a  movement.  Accord- 
ingly, let  us  suppose  that  it  [the  deduction]  is  per- 
ceived by  intuition  when  it  is  simple  and  clear,  but 
not  when  it  is  manifold  and  involved.  Then  we  gave 
it  the  name  enumeration  and  induction,  because  it 
cannot  be  comprehended  in  one  whole  at  a  glance  of 
the  mind,  but  its  certainty  depends  in  some  measure 
on  the  memory,  whose  function  is  to  hold  in  the  mind 
the  judgments  passed  on  each  of  the  parts  in  order 
that  a  single  judgment  may  be  concluded  from 
them. 

All  these  distinctions  are  necessary  for  the  under- 
standing of  this  rule.  The  ninth  having  treated  of 
intuition,  and  the  tenth  of  enumeration,  the  present 
rule  shows  how  these  two  rules  aid  and  complete  each 
other,  so  that  they  seem  to  make  but  one,  by  virtue 
of  a  movement  of  thought  which  considers  attentively 
each  object  and  at  the  same  time  passes  on  to  others. 
We  find  in  this  the  double  advantage,  on  the  one 
hand,  of  knowing  with  more  certainty  the  conclusion 
with  which  we  are  concerned,  and,  on  the  other,  of 
rendering  the  mind  more  skillful  in  the  discovery  of 
others.  Indeed  the  memory  upon  which  we  said  de- 
pends the  certainty  of  conclusions  too  complex  for 
intuition  to  take  in  at  a  single  view  ;  the  memory, 
feeble  and  wandering  by  nature,  needs  to  be  renewed 
and  reenforced  by  this  continual  and  repeated  move- 
ment of  thought.  Thus  when,  after  many  operations, 


92  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

I  have  come  to  recognize  the  relation  between,  a  first 
and  a  second  quantity,  between  a  second  and  a  third, 
between  a  third  and  a  fourth,  finally  between  a  fourth 
and  a  fifth,  I  do  not  thereby  foresee  the  relation  of  the 
first  to  the  fifth,  and  I  cannot  deduce  it  from  the  rela- 
tions already  known  without  recalling  them  all.  It 
is  therefore  necessary  that  my  thought  run  over  them 
anew,  until  at  last  I  am  able  to  pass  from  the  first  to 
the  last  so  quickly  as  to  seem,  almost  without  the  aid 
of  memory,  to  embrace  the  whole  in  a  single  intuition. 
This  method,  as  everyone  knows,  corrects  the  slug- 
gishness of  the  mind,  and  also  increases  its  grasp.  But 
it  must  be  noticed  further  that  the  usefulness  of  this 
rule  consists  principally  in  this,  that  by  accustoming 
ourselves  to  reflect  upon  the  mutual  dependence  of 
simple  propositions,  we  acquire  facility  in  distinguish- 
ing at  a  glance  the  more  or  the  less  relative  and  per- 
ceiving the  steps  by  which  they  are  to  be  brought 
back  to  the  absolute 

RULE  XII. — Finally,  all  the  resources  of  intellect,  of 
imagination,  of  the  senses,  of  memory,  must  be  employed, 
in  order  to  have  a  distinct  intuition  of  simple  propositions, 
to  compare  suitably  w/iat  is  sought  with  what  is  known, 
and  to  find  out  the  things  which  are  thus  to  be  compared 
together;  in  a  word,  no  one  of  the  means  of  knowledge 
with  which  the  human  mind  is  provided,  is  to  be  neglected. 

This  rule  includes  all  that  has  been  said  above,  and 
shows  in  a  general  way  what  is  to  be  particularly  ex- 
plained. For  the  attainment  of  knowledge,  only  two 
things  are  to  be  taken  into  account:  we  who  know,  and 
the  objects  which  are  to  be  known.  There  are  within 
us  four  faculties  which  we  can  employ  in  knowing;  the 
intellect,  the  imagination,  the  senses,  and  the  memory. 
The  intellect  alone  is  capable  of  conceiving  truth.  It 


METHOD]         THE   DIRECTION   OF   THE   MIND.  93 

must,  nevertheless,  avail  itself  of  the  imagination,  the 
senses,  and  the  memory,  in  order  not  to  leave  unem- 
ployed any  of  our  means  of  knowledge.  So  far  as 
concerns  the  objects  themselves,  three  things  only  are 
to  be  considered  :  first,  we  must  see  what  presents 
itself  to  us  spontaneously;  then  how  one  thing  is 
known  by  means  of  another  ;  finally,  what  things  are 
deduced  from  others,  and  from  what  they  are  deduced. 
This  enumeration  seems  to  me  to  be  complete.  It 
embraces  all  that  the  faculties  of  man  can  attain.  .  .  . 

It  is  to  be  conceived,  first  of  all,  that  the  external 
senses,  in  so  far  as  they  form  part  of  the  body,  although 
we  direct  them  to  objects  by  our  own  action — that  is 
to  say,  by  means  of  local  movement — never  perceive 
except  passively  ;  that  is  to  say,  in  the  same  way 
as  wax  receives  the  impression  of  a  seal.  And  it  must 
not  be  supposed  that  this  comparison  is  to  be  taken 
merely  in  the  way  of  analogy,  but  it  is  to  be  conceived 
that  the  external  form  of  the  body,  in  perceiving,  is 
really  modified  by  the  object  in  the  same  way  that  the 
surface  of  the  wax  is  modified  by  the  seal.  This  is 
true  not  only  when  we  touch  a  body  in  respect  to 
its  figure,  hardness,  roughness,  etc.,  but  also  when 
through  contact  we  perceive  heat  and  cold.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  other  senses 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  to  be  conceived  that  at  the 
instant  when  the  external  sense  is  set  in  motion  by 
the  object,  the  form  which  it  receives  is  borne  to  an- 
other part  of  the  body  which  is  called  the  common 
sense;  and  that  instantaneously,  and  without  their 
being  a  real  passing  of  anything  from  one  point  to  an- 
other ;  just  as,  while  I  am  writing,  I  know  that  at  the 
instant  when  each  letter  is  traced  upon  the  paper,  not 
only  the  point  of  the  pen  is  in  motion,  but  also  that  it 


94  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

cannot  receive  the  least  motion  which  is  not  simulta- 
neously communicated  to  the  entire  pen,  the  upper 
part  of  which  describes  in  the  air  the  same  figures^ 
although  nothing  real  passes  from  one  end  to  the 
other.  But  who  can  suppose  the  connection  of  the 
parts  of  the  human  body  less  complete  than  that  of 
the  pen,  and  where  shall  we  find  an  image  more  sim- 
ple to  represent  it  ? 

It  is  to  be  conceived,  in  the  third  place,  that  the 
common  sense  plays  the  part  of  the  seal,  which  im- 
prints on  the  imagination,  as  upon  wax,  those  forms 
or  ideas  which  the  external  senses  convey  to  it  pure 
and  incorporeal  ;  that  this  imagination  is  a  true  part 
of  the  body,  and  of  such  extent  that  its  different  parts 
can  take  on  many  forms  distinct  one  from  another, 
and  even  retain  the  impression  of  them  for  a  long 
time  ;  in  this  case  it  is  called  memory. 

In  the  fourth  place  it  is  to  be  conceived  that  the 
moving  force,  or  the  nerves  themselves,  have  their 
origin  in  the  brain,  which  contains  the  imagination 
which  moves  them  in  a  thousand  ways,  as  the  common 
sense  is  moved  by  the  external  sense,  or  the  entire 
pen  by  its  lower  end  ;  an  example  which  shows  how 
imagination  can  be  the  cause  of  a  great  number  of 
movements  in  the  nerves  without  its  being  necessary 
that  it  should  have  the  impression  of  them  in  itself, 
provided  that  it  have  other  impressions  from  which 
these  movements  may  result ;  in  fact,  the  entire  pen 
is  not  moved  just  as  the  point  is.  Rather,  it  ap- 
pears, through  the  main  part  of  it,  to  follow  an  exactly 
opposite  inverted  movement.  This  explains  the 
origin  of  all  movements  of  all  animals,  although  we 
ascribe  to  them  no  knowledge  of  things,  but  simply 
imagination  purely  corporeal,  and  also  the  production 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  95 

in  ourselves  of  all  those  operations  which   do   not 
require  the  aid  of  reason. 

Finally,  in  the  fifth  place,  it  is  to  be  conceived  that 
this  energy,  whereby,  in  the  proper  sense,  we  know 
objects,  is  purely  spiritual,  and  is  no  less  distinct  from 
the  entire  body  than  is  the  blood  from  the  bones  and 
the  hand  from  the  eye  ;  that  it  is  one  and  identical, 
whether  with  the  imagination  it  receives  the  forms 
which  the  common  sense  conveys  to  it,  or  applies 
itself  to  those  which  the  memory  keeps  in  store,  or 
fashions  new  ones  which  seize  upon  the  imagination 
so  powerfully  that  it  cannot  at  the  same  time  receive 
the  ideas  which  the  common  sense  is  bringing  to  it, 
or  transmit  them  to  the  active  powers,  according  to 
the  mode  of  disposing  of  them  which  is  proper  to  it. 
In  all  these  cases  the  energy  which  knows  is  some- 
times passive  and  sometimes  active  ;  now  it  resembles 
the  seal  and  again  the  wax — a  comparison,  however, 
which  must  be  regarded  as  merely  an  analog}'-,  because 
among  material  objects  there  is  nothing  which  re- 
sembles it.  It  is  always  one  and  the  same  energy 
which,  when  applying  itself,  together  with  imagination, 
to  the  common  sense,  is  called  seeing,  touching,  etc.  ; 
to  the  imagination,  in  so  far  as  it  revives  the  various 
forms  [of  sense],  is  called  remembering  ;  to  the  imagi- 
nation which  creates  new  forms,  is  called  imagining  or 
conceiving ;  which,  lastly,  when  it  acts  alone,  is  called 
comprehending,  which  we  shall  explain  more  at  length 
in  its  proper  place. 

Also,  by  reason  of  these  different  faculties,  it 
receives  the  different  names  of  pure  intellect,  imagina- 
tion, memory,  sensibility.  It  is  properly  called  mind 
when  it  forms  in  the  imagination  new  ideas,  or  when 
it  applies  itself  to  those  already  formed  there,  and  we 


g6  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

consider  it  as  the  cause  of  these  different  operations. 
It  will  be  necessary  further  on  to  note  the  distinction 
in  these  terms.  All  these  things  being  once  well  un- 
derstood, the  attentive  reader  will  have  no  trouble  as 
to  deciding  what  assistance  each  one  of  these  faculties 
can  afford  us,  and  up  to  what  point  art  can  supply  the 
natural  defects  of  the  mind.  For,  as  the  intellect  can 
be  moved  by  the  imagination,  and  act  upon  it,  as  this 
latter  in  its  turn  can  act  upon  the  senses  aiding  the 
will  in  applying  them  to  objects,  and  as  the  senses,  on 
the  other  hand,  act  upon  it  by  painting  images  of 
bodily  objects  there  ;  as  memory,  moreover,  at  least 
that  which  is  corporeal  and  which  resembles  the 
memory  of  brutes,  is  identical  with  imagination  ;  it  fol- 
lows therefrom  that  when  intellect  is  occupied  with 
things  which  have  no  corporeal  nature,  nor  anything 
analogous  thereto,  it  will  look  in  vain  for  help  from 
these  faculties.  More  than  that,  in  order  that  its' 
action  be  not  hindered,  it  is  necessary  to  banish  the 
senses,  and  to  deprive  the  imagination,  so  far  as  pos- 
sible, of  every  distinct  impression. 

If,  on  the  contrary,  the  intellect  propose  to  itself  to 
examine  something  which  can  be  referred  to  a  body, 
it  must  form  in  the  imagination  the  most  distinct  idea 
possible  of  it.  To  succeed  in  this  more  easily,  it  must 
exhibit  to  the  external  senses  the  same  object  which 
this  idea  represents.  A  plurality  of  objects  will  not 
facilitate  distinct  intuition  of  an  individual  object ; 
but  if  from  this  plurality  it  is  desired  to  separate  an 
individual,  as  is  often  necessary,  the  imagination  must 
be  relieved  of  all  that  which  would  divide  the  atten- 
tion, in  order  that  what  remains  may  be  the  more 
deeply  graven  on  the  memory.  In  the  case  of  mem- 
ory itself,  it  will  not  be  necessary  to  present  the  ob- 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  97 

jects  themselves  to  the  external  senses,  but  only  to 
afford  it  abstracted  images  of  them,  which,  provided 
they  do  not  lead  us  into  error,  are  all  the  better  in 
proportion  as  they  are  brief  and  comprehensive. 
These  are  the  precepts  to  be  observed,  if  nothing  is 
to  be  omitted  as  regards  the  first  part  of  our  rule. 

Let  us  .come  to  the  second  part  and  distinguish 
carefully  the  notions  of  simple  things  from  those  of 
composite  things ;  let  us  see  in  which  falsity  may 
exist,  in  order  to  be  on  our  guard  with  reference  to 
these  ;  those  in  which  certainty  can  be  found,  in  order 
to  apply  ourselves  exclusively  to  the  study  of  them. 
Here,  as  in  our  preceding  inquiry,  certain  propositions 
must  be  admitted,  which  perhaps  will  not  receive  uni- 
versal assent ;  but  it  matters  little  if  they  are  no  more 
believed  to  be  true  than  are  those  imaginary  circles 
employed  by  astronomers  to  include  the  phenomena 
of  their  science,  provided  they  assist  us  in  distinguish- 
ing the  objects  in  reference  to  which  our  knowledge 
can  be  true  or  false. 

We  say,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  things  must  be 
considered  under  another  point  of  view  when  we  ex- 
amine them  in  relation  to  our  intelligence  which  knows 
them,  than  when  we  are  speaking  of  them  in  reference 
to  their  real  existence.  For  instance,  suppose  a  body 
having  extension  and  figure  :  in  itself,  we  affirm  that 
it  is  something  one  and  simple  ;  in  reality  it  cannot 
be  said  to  be  composite  because  it  has  corporeality, 
extension,  and  figure,  since  these  elements  never 
exist  independently  of  one  another.  But  in  relation 
to  our  intelligence,  it  is  a  compound  of  these  three 
elements,  because  each  of  them  presents  itself  sepa- 
rately to  our  mind  before  we  have  time  to  consider 
that  they  are  all  found  united  in  one  and  the  same 


98  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

subject.  Thus  considering  here  things  merely  in  their 
relation  to  our  intelligence,  we  shall  call  simple  those 
only  the  notion  of  which  is  so  clear  and  so  distinct 
that  the  mind  cannot  divide  it  into  other  notions  still 
more  simple  ;  such  are  figure,  extension,  movement, 
etc.  We  conceive  all  others  as  being,  in  some  man- 
ner, composed  of  these  ;  which  is  to  be  taken  in  the 
widest  meaning,  not  excepting  even  things  which  it  is 
possible  for  us  to  abstract  from  these  simple  notions, 
as  when  it  is  said  that  figure  is  the  limit  of  extension, 
meaning  there  by  limit  something  more  general  than 
figure,  since  we  can  speak  of  the  limit  of  duration,  of 
movement,  etc. 

In  this  case,  although  the  notion  of  limit  is  ab- 
stracted from  that  of  figure,  it  is  not  for  that  reason 
to  be  regarded  as  being  more  simple  than  the  latter. 
On  the  contrary,  when  we  attribute  it  to  other  things 
essentially  different  from  figure,  such  as  duration  and 
movement,  it  is  necessary  to  abstract  it  even  from 
these  notions,  and,  consequently,  it  is  a  compound  of 
quite  diverse  elements,  to  each  one  of  which  it  can  be 
applied  only  equivocally.  We  say,  in  the  second 
place,  that  things  called  simple  in  relation  to  our  in- 
telligence are  either  purely  intellectual,  or  purely  ma- 
terial, or  intellectual  and  material  at  the  same  time. 
The  purely  intellectual  are  the  things  which  intelli- 
gence knows  by  the  aid  of  a  certain  natural  light, 
and  without  the  help  of  any  corporeal  image.  But 
there  is  a  great  number  of  this  kind  ;  and,  for  exam- 
ple, it  is  impossible  to  form  a  material  image  of 
doubt,  of  ignorance,  of  the  action  of  the  will,  which  it 
may  be  permitted  me  to  call  volition,  and  of  so  many 
other  things,  which,  nevertheless,  we  really  know,  and 
so  easily  that  all  that  is  necessary  is  that  we  be  en- 


METHOD]       THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  99 

dowed  with  reason.  The  purely  material  are  the 
things  which  are  known  only  in  bodies,  as  figure,  ex- 
tension, movement,  etc.  Finally,  those  must  be  called 
common  which  are  indifferently  attributed  to  bodies 
and  to  minds,  such  as  existence,  unity,  duration,  and 
others  similar.  To  this  class  are  to  be  referred  those 
common  notions  which  are,  as  it  were,  the  bonds 
which  unite  together  different  simple  natures,  and 
upon  the  evidence  of  which  rest  the  conclusions  of 
reasoning;  for  example,  the  proposition,  two  things 
equal  to  a  third  are  equal  to  each  other,  and  again, 
two  things  which  cannot  be  related  in  the  same  way 
to  a  third  are  mutually  different.  But  these  ideas 
may  be  known,  either  by  pure  intelligence,  or  by  in- 
telligence considering  the  images  of  material  objects. 

Among  the  number  of  simple  things  must  be  placed 
their  negation  and  their  privation,  in  so  far  as  these 
fall  under  our  intelligence,  because  the  idea  of  non- 
entity, of  the  instant,  of  rest,  is  no  less  a  true  idea 
than  that  of  existence,  of  duration,  of  movement. 
This  way  of  looking  at  the  matter  will  allow  us  to 
say,  consequently,  that  all  the  other  things  that  we 
know  are  composed  of  these  simple  elements  :  thus, 
when  I  judge  that  a  figure  is  not  in  motion,  I  can 
say  that  my  idea  is  composed,  in  a  sort,  of  figure  and 
of  rest,  and  so  of  others. 

We  say,  in  the  third  place,  that  these  simple  ele- 
ments are  all  known  by  themselves,  and  contain 
nothing  false;  which  will  readily  appear,  if  we  distin- 
guish the  faculty  of  intelligence  which  sees*  and  knows 
these  things  from  that  which  judges,f  affirming  and 

*  Reason  intuitive.  Cf.  Erdmann,  Hist,  of  Philos.  Modern, 
pp.  12,  13- 

f  Reason  discursive,  understanding. 


IOO  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

denying.  It  is  possible,  indeed,  that  we  may  think 
ourselves  to  be  ignorant  of  things  which  we  really 
know ;  for  example,  if  we  suppose  that  beyond  what 
we  can  see,  and  what  we  can  reach  by  thought,  things 
still  contain  something  unknown  to  us,  and  that  this 
supposition  may  be  false.  This  being  so,  it  is  plain 
that  we  deceive  ourselves,  if  we  think  we  do  not 
know  absolutely  any  one  of  these  simple  natures,  for 
if  our  intelligence  puts  itself  in  the  least  degree  in 
relation  to  them,  which  is  necessary,  since  we  are 
supposed  to  pass  some  judgment  upon  them,  it  must 
be  concluded  from  this  that  we  know  it  absolutely. 
Otherwise  we  cannot  say  that  it  is  simple,  but  rather, 
composed,  first,  of  that  which  we  know  of  it,  then,  of 
that  of  which  we  believe  ourselves  to  be  ignorant. 

We  say,  in  the  fourth  place,  that  the  connection  of 
these  simple  things  among  themselves  is  either  neces- 
sary or  contingent.  It  is  necessary,  when  the  idea  of 
one  is  so  combined  with  the  idea  of  the  other  that, 
when  we  wish  to  judge  them  separately,  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  one  of  the  two  distinctly.  In  this  manner 
figure  is  combined  with  extension,  movement  with 
duration  or  time,  because  it  is  impossible  to  conceive 
figure  without  extension,  and  movement  without  du- 
ration. In  the  same  way,  when  I  say  that  four  and 
three  make  seven,  this  connection  is  necessary,  be- 
cause the  number  seven  cannot  be  conceived  dis- 
tinctly without  including  in  it  in  a  confused  manner 
the  number  four  and  the  number  three.  Likewise, 
further,  all  that  is  proved  of  figures  and  numbers  is 
necessarily  connected  with  the  thing  regarding  which 
affirmation  is  made.  This  necessity  exists  not  only 
with  respect  to  sensible  objects.  For  example,  if 
Socrates  says  he  doubts  everything,  this  consequence 


METHOD]        THE  DIRECTION  OF  THE  MIND.  ici 

necessarily  follows,  that  he  knows  at  least  that  he 
doubts  ;  and  this,  that  he  knows  that  something  may 
be  true  or  false  ;  for  these  are  notions  which  neces- 
sarily accompany  doubt.  The  connection  is  contin- 
gent, when  things  are  not  inseparably  bound  together; 
for  example,  when  we  say  the  body  is  living,  the  man 
is  clothed.  There  are  also  many  propositions  which 
are  necessarily  connected  together,  and  which  the 
majority  class  with  the  contingent,  because  the  rela- 
tion between  them  is  not  observed  ;  for  example,  I 
am,  therefore  God  is  ;  I  know,  therefore,  I  have  a 
mind  distinct  from  my  body.  Finally,  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served that  there  is  a  great  number  of  necessary  prop- 
ositions, of  which  the  reciprocal  is  contingent  :  thus, 
although,  from  the  fact  that  I  exist,  I  conclude  with 
certainty  that  God  exists,  I  cannot  reciprocally  affirm, 
from  the  fact  that  God  exists,  that  I  exist. 

We  say,  in  the  fifth  place,  that  we  can  know  noth- 
ing beyond  these  simple  natures  and  the  compounds 
formed  from  them  ;  and,  also,  that  it  is  often  much 
easier  to  examine  several  of  them  joined  together  than 
to  abstract  one  from  the  rest.  Thus  I  can  know  a 
triangle  without  ever  having  noticed  that  this  knowl- 
edge contains  that  of  the  angle,  the  line,  the  number 
three,  figure,  extension,  etc.;  which  does  not  prevent 
our  saying  that  the  nature  of  the  triangle  is  a  com- 
pound of  all  these  natures,  and  that  they  are  better 
known  than  the  triangle,  since  they  are  what  are  com- 
prised in  it.  Moreover,  there  are  in  this  same  notion 
of  the  triangle  many  others  which  exist  there  and 
escape  our  notice,  such  as  the  size  of  the  angles, 
which  are  equal  to  two  right  angles,  and  the  innumer- 
able relations  of  the  sides  to  the  angles,  or  to  the 
capacity  of  the  area. 


IO2  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.          [PART  I 

We  say,  in  the  sixth  place,  that  the  natures  called 
compound  are  known  by  us,  either  because  we  find  by 
experience  that  they  are  composite,  or  because  we 
combine  them  ourselves.  We  know,  for  example,  all 
that  we  perceive  by  the  senses,  all  that  we  hear  said  by 
others,  and,  in  general,  all  that  reaches  our  under- 
standing,  whether  from  elsewhere  or  from  the  reflec- 
tions of  the  understanding  itself.  It  is  to  be  noted 
here  that  the  understanding  cannot  be  deceived  by 
any  experience,  if  it  limit  itself  to  a  precise  intuition 
of  the  object,  such  as  it  possesses  in  the  idea  of  it  or 
its  image.  Let  it  not  be  supposed  from  this  that  the 
imagination  faithfully  represents  to  us  the  objects  of 
the  senses  ;  the  senses  themselves  do  not  reflect  the 
true  form  of  things  ;  and  finally,  external  objects  are 
not  always  such  as  they  appear  to  us  ;  we  are  in  all 
these  respects  liable  to  error,  just  as  if  we  should  ac- 
cept a  tale  as  true  history.  A  man  afflicted  with  the 
jaundice  thinks  that  everything  is  yellow,  because  his 
eye  is  of  that  color  ;  a  mind  diseased  and  melancholy 
may  take  for  realities  the  vain  phantoms  of  its  imagina- 
tion. But  these  same  things  will  not  lead  into  error 
the  intelligence  of  the  wise  man,  because,  while  he 
knows  that  all  that  comes  to  him  from  imagination 
was  really  imprinted  there,  he  will  never  affirm  that 
the  notion  has  come  unaltered  from  the  external  ob- 
jects to  the  senses,  from  the  senses  to  the  imagina- 
tion, at  least  not  until  he  has  some  other  means  of 
assuring  himself  of  the  fact.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
we  who  ourselves  combine  the  objects  of  our  knowl- 
edge whenever  we  think  that  they  contain  something 
which  our  mind  perceives  immediately  without  any  ex- 
perience. Thus,  when  the  man  who  is  ill  with  the  jaun- 
dice persuades  himself  that  what  he  sees  is  yellow,  his 


METHOD]         THE   DIRECTION    OF    THE    MIND.  103 

knowledge  is  composed  both  of  that  which  his  imagina- 
tion represents  to  him,  and  of  that  which  he  derives 
from  himself,  to  wit,  that  the  yellow  color  comes  not 
from  a  defect  of  his  eye,  but  from  the  fact  that  the 
things  which  he  sees  are  really  yellow.  It  follows 
from  all  this  that  we  can  deceive  ourselves  only  when 
we  ourselves  combine  the  notions  which  we  receive. 

We  say,  in  the  seventh  place,  that  this  combination 
may  be  made  in  three  ways,  by  impulse,  by  conjec- 
ture, or  by  deduction.  Those  make  up  their  judg- 
ments on  things  by  impulse  who  allow  themselves  to 
believe  anything  without  being  persuaded  by  any 
reason,  but  are  determined,  simply,  either  by  some  su- 
perior authority,  or  by  their  own  free  will,  or  by  the  in- 
fluence of  their  imagination.  The  first  never  deceives; 
the  second  rarely  ;  the  third  almost  always  :  but  the 
first  does  not  belong  to  this  treatise,  because  it  does 
not  fall  under  the  rules  of  the  method.  Combination 
is  made  by  conjecture  when,  for  example,  from  the  fact 
that  water,  being  far  distant  from  the  center  of  the 
earth,  it  is  [assumed  to  be]  of  a  thinner  substance  ; 
from  the  fact  that  air  being  placed  above  the  earth, 
is  also  much  lighter  than  it,  we  conclude  that  above 
the  air  there  is  nothing  but  an  etherial  substance,  very 
pure,  and  much  thinner  than  the  air  itself.  The 
notions  which  we  combine  in  this  way  do  not  deceive 
us,  provided  we  accept  them  only  as  probabilities, 
never  as  truths  :  but  they  do  not  make  us  any  wiser. 
There  remains  deduction  only,  whereby  we  may  com- 
bine notions  of  the  accuracy  of  which  we  maybe  sure; 
and,  nevertheless,  a  great  many  errors  may  be  com- 
mitted in  it.  For  example,  when  from  the  fact  that 
there  is  nothing  in  the  air  which  sight,  touch,  or  any 
other  sense  can  perceive,  we  conclude  that  the  space 


104  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  I 

which  contains  it  is  empty,  we  improperly  connect  the 
nature  of  the  void  with  that  of  space  ;  but  this  always 
happens  whenever  we  think  we  can  deduce  from  a 
particular  and  contingent  thing  something  general 
and  necessary.  But  it  is  in  our  power  to  avoid  this 
error,  by  never  making  any  combinations  in  our 
thought  except  those  which  we  recognize  to  be  neces- 
sary ;  as,  for  example,  when  we  conclude  that  nothing 
can  be  figured  which  is  not  extended,  since  figure  has 
a  necessary  relation  to  extension. 

From  all  this  it  follows,  .  .  .  that  we  have  set 
forth  clearly,  and,  as  it  seems  to  me,  by  a  sufficient 
enumeration,  what  [we  could  show  at  the  beginning 
only  confusedly  and  without  method  ;  to  wit,  that 
there  are  only  two  ways  open  to  man  for  attaining 
a  certain  knowledge  of  truth  :  clear  intuition  and 
necessary  deduction.  .  .  . 


MEDITATIONS 

UPON  THE  FIRST  PHILOSOPHY,  IN  WHICH 
ARE   CLEARLY  PROVED  THE    EXIST- 
ENCE   OF  GOD  AND  THE  REAL 
DISTINCTION       BETWEEN 
THE  SOUL  AND  THE 
BODY  OF    MAN. 


105 


MEDITATIONS 

UPON  THE  FIRST  PHILOSOPHY,  IN  WHICH  ARE 

CLEARLY  PROVED  THE  EXISTENCE  OF  GOD 

AND  THE  REAL  DISTINCTION  BETWEEN 

THE  SOUL  AND  THE    BODY  OF  MAN. 

FIRST  MEDITATION.* 

Of  the  things  which  may  be  doubted. 

NOT  to-day,  for  the  first  time,  have  I  become  aware 
that,  from  my  earliest  years,  I  have  accepted  a  multi- 
tude of  false  opinions  as  true,  and  that  what  I  have 
based  on  principles  so  ill-assured  cannot  be  otherwise 
than  extremely  doubtful.  Ever  since  I  became  con- 
vinced of  this,  I  have  considered  that  I  ought  for  once 
in  my  life  seriously  to  undertake  to  rid  myself  of  all 
the  false  opinions  which  I  have  hitherto  received,  and 
to  begin  entirely  anew  from  the  foundations,  if  I 
wished  to  establish  anything  in  the  sciences  that 
should  be  solid  and  stable.  But,  because  it  seemed 
to  me  to  be  a  great  undertaking,  I  have  waited  till  I 
should  attain  an  age  so  ripe  that  I  could  not  hope  for 
another  after  it  at  which  I  should  be  more  fit  to  ac- 
complish the  task.  I  have,  in  consequence,  delayed  so 
long  that  I  believe  I  should  be  at  fault  if  I  should 

*  (Euvrfs,  t.  i,  p.  235.  The  Meditations  may  be  found  trans- 
lated entire  in  Veitch's  Descartes. 

107 


Io8  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.       [PART  II 

hereafter  spend  in  deliberating  the  time  which  remains 
for  action.  To-day,  then,  in  accordance  with  my  de- 
sign, having  freed  my  mind  from  every  kind  of  care, 
by  good  fortune  being  disturbed  by  no  passions,  and 
having  secured  to  myself  a  peaceful  and  solitary  re- 
treat, I  shall  devote  myself,  in  sober  earnest  and  with 
entire  freedom,  to  the  business  of  destroying  all  my 
former  opinions.*  But,  in  order  to  do  this,  it  will  not 
be  necessary  for  me  to  prove  that  every  one  of  them 
is  false,  in  doing  which  I  might  never  reach  the  end. 
But  inasmuch  as  reason  convinces  me  that  I  ought 
to  restrain  myself  from  admitting  as  true  things  which 
are  not  entirely  certain  and  indubitable,  not  less  care- 
fully than  those  which  appear  to  me  to  be  manifestly 
false,  there  will  be  sufficient  reason  for  me  to  reject 
all  of  them  if  I  can  find  in  any  one  of  them  any 
grounds  for  doubt.  However,  it  will  not  be  necessary 
that  I  examine  each  one  in  particular,  which  would  be 
infinite  labor  ;  but,  inasmuch  as  the  destruction  of  the 
foundations  necessarily  involves  the  ruin  of  the  whole 
edifice,  I  will  apply  myself  at  once  to  the  principles 
upon  which  all  my  old  opinions  rest. 

All  that  I  have  hitherto  received  as  most  true  and 
assured  I  have  learned  from  the  senses  or  by  means 
of  the  senses.  But  I  have  sometimes  found  that  these 
senses  were  deceivers,  and  it  is  the  part  of  prudence 
never  to  trust  entirely  those  who  have  once  deceived 
us.f 

*  Cf.  Principles  of  Philosophy t  part  I,  I,  2. 

1.  The  seeker  after  truth  once  in  his  life,  so  far  as  it  is  possible, 
should  doubt  all  things. 

2.  What  is  doubtful  should  be  considered  false. 
(Euvres,  t.  iii,  pp.  63,  64.     Veitch's  Descartes,  p.  193. 

•j-  Cf .  Princ.  I,  4.     Why  we  may  doubt  of  sensible  things. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  109 

But  although  the  senses  may  deceive  us  sometimes 
in  regard  to  things  which  are  scarcely  perceptible  and 
very  distant,  yet  there  are  many  other  things  of  which 
we  cannot  entertain  a  reasonable  doubt,  although  we 
know  them  by  means  of  the  senses  ;  for  example,  that 
I  am  here,  seated  by  the  fire,  in  my  dressing-gown, 
holding  this  paper  in  my  hands,  and  other  things  of 
such  a  nature.  And  how  can  I  deny  that  these  hands 
and  this  body  are  mine?  Only  by  imitating  those 
crazy  people,  whose  brains  are  so  disturbed  and  con- 
fused by  the  black  vapors  of  the  bile  that  they  con- 
stantly affirm  that  they  are  kings,  while  in  fact  they 
are  very  poor  ;  that  they  are  clothed  in  gold  and 
purple,  while  they  are  quite  naked  ;  or  who  imagine 
themselves  to  be  pitchers,  or  to  have  glass  bodies. 
But  what !  These  are  fools,  and  I  should  be  no  less 
extravagant  if  I  should  follow  their  example.  Never- 
theless, I  have  to  consider  that  I  am  a  man,  and  that 
I  fall  asleep  and  in  my  dreams  imagine  the  same 
things  or  even  sometimes  things  less  probable  than 
these  crazy  people  do  while  they  are  awake.  How 
often  have  I  dreamed  in  the  night  that  I  was  in  this 
place,  that  I  was  dressed,  that  I  was  before  the  fire, 
although  I  was  quite  naked  in  my  bed.  It  seems  to 
me  indeed  at  present  that  I  am  looking  on  this  paper 
not  with  eyes  asleep,  that  this  head  which  I  shake 
is  not  in  a  drowse,  that  it  is  with  deliberate  pur- 
pose I  stretch  out  my  hand,  and  that  I  perceive  it. 
What  happens  in  sleep  does  not  appear  so  clear  and 
distinct  as  all  this. 

But  when  I  consider  it  carefully,  I  remember  that  I 
have  often  been  deceived,  while  asleep,  by  similar  illu- 
sions, and,  pondering  on  the  matter,  I  see  so  plainly 
that  there  are  no  certain  marks  by  which  the  waking 


110  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

is  distinguished  from  the  sleeping  state  that  I  am 
quite  astonished,  and  my  astonishment  is  so  great  as 
almost  to  persuade  me  that  I  am  asleep.* 

Let  us,  then,  suppose  that  we  are  asleep,  and  that 
all  these  particular  events — that  we  open  our  eyes, 
shake  our  heads,  stretch  out  our  hands,  and  such  like 
things — are  only  false  illusions,  and  let  us  think  that 
perhaps  neither  our  hands  nor  our  entire  bodies  are 
such  as  we  perceive  them.  Nevertheless,  we  must  at 
least  admit  that  the  things  which  we  imagine  in  sleep 
are  like  pictures  and  paintings,  which  can  only  be 
formed  after  the  likeness  of  something  real  and  veri- 
table. Accordingly,  these  things  in  general — namely, 
eyes,  head,  hands,  body — are  not  imaginary,  but  real 
and  existent.  For  truly,  painters,  even  when  they 
strive  with  the  utmost  art  to  represent  sirens  and 
satyrs  by  extravagant  and  fantastical  figures,  cannot, 
nevertheless,  give  them  forms  and  natures  entirely 
novel,  but  only  make  a  certain  mixture  and  combina- 
tion of  divers  creatures,  or,  even  if  their  imagination 
is  extravagant  enough  to  invent  something  so  new  the 
like  whereof  has  never  been  seen,  and  their  work 
represents  something  purely  fictitious  and  absolutely 
false,  certainly,  at  the  very  least,  the  colors  of  which 
they  are  composed  must  be  real. 

By  the  same  reason,  granting  that  these  things  in 
general,  namely,  body,  eyes,  head,  hands,  and  other 
like  things,  may  be  imaginary,  nevertheless  it  must  be 
admitted  that  there  are  at  least  some  other  things  still 

*Epistemon. — Have  you  never  heard  in  the  old  comedies  that 
stock-phrase  for  expressing  astonishment  :  Am  I,  then, asleep? 
How  can  you  be  certain  that  your  life  is  not  a  continuous  dream, 
and  that  all  that  you  perceive  by  the  senses  is  not  as  false  as  when 
you  are  asleep  ? — Recherche  de  la  Verite.  (CEuvres,  t.  xi,  p.  350.) 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  in 

more  simple  and  universal,  which  are  true  and  exist- 
ent, of  the  combination  of  which,  no  more  nor  less 
than  that  formed  from  certain  real  colors,  all  these 
images  of  things  which  dwell  in  the  mind,  be  they  true 
and  real,  or  fictitious  and  fantastic,  are  formed.  Of 
this  nature  is  corporeal  being  in  general  and  its  ex- 
tension, together  with  the  figure  of  things  extended, 
their  quantity  or  size,  and  their  number,  as  also  the 
place  where  they  are,  the  time  which  measures  their 
duration,  and  other  similar  things.  Accordingly,  per- 
haps, we  shall  not  from  this  conclude  incorrectly,  if 
we  say  that  physics,  astronomy,  medicine,  and  all  the 
other  sciences  which  are  occupied  with  the  considera- 
tion of  things  composite,  are  very  doubtful  and  uncer- 
tain, but  that  arithmetic,  geometry,  and  the  other 
sciences  of  that  nature,  which  treat  only  of  things 
quite  simple  and  quite  general,  without  being  much 
concerned  whether  they  exist  in  reality  or  not,  contain 
something  certain  and  indubitable,  because,  whether  I 
am  awake  or  asleep,  two  and  three  taken  together 
always  make  five,  and  a  square  never  has  more  than 
four  sides,  and  it  does  not  seem  possible  that  truths  so 
clear  and  so  evident  can  be  suspected  of  any  falsity  or 
uncertainty. 

Nevertheless,  for  a  long  time  I  have  cherished  the 
belief  that  there  is  a  God  who  can  do  everything 
and  by  whom  I  was  made  and  created  such  as  I  am. 
But  how  do  I  know  that  he  has  not  caused  that  there 
should  be  no  earth,  no  heavens,  no  extended  body, 
no  figure,  no  size,  no  place,  and  that,  nevertheless,  I 
should  have  perceptions  of  all  these  things,  and  that 
everything  should  seem  to  me  to  exist  not  otherwise 
than  as  I  perceive  it  ?  And  even  in  like  manner  as  I 
judge  that  others  deceive  themselves  in  matters  that 


112  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  II 

they  know  best,  how  do  I  know  that  he  has  not  caused 
that  I  deceive  myself  every  time  that  I  add  two  to 
three,  or  number  the  sides  of  a  square,  or  judge  of 
anything  still  more  simple,  if  anything  more  simple 
can  be  imagined  ?  *  But  it  may  be  that  God  has  not 
willed  that  I  should  be  deceived  in  this  manner,  since 
he  is  called  supremely  good.  Nevertheless,  if  it  is 
repugnant  to  his  goodness  to  create  me  such  that  I 
should  deceive  myself  constantly,  it  would  appear  also 
to  be  contrary  to  it  to  permit  me  to  deceive  myself 
sometimes,  and  yet  I  cannot  doubt  that  he  does  per- 
mit it 

I  shall  suppose,  then,  not  that  God,  who  is  very 
good  and  the  sovereign  source  of  truth,  but  that  a 
certain  evil  genius,  no  less  wily  and  deceitful  than 
powerful,  has  employed  all  his  ingenuity  to  deceive 
me.  I  shall  think  that  the  heavens,  the  air,  the  earth, 
colors,  figures,  sounds,  and  all  other  external  things, 
are  nothing  but  illusions  and  idle  fancies  which  he 
employs  to  impose  upon  my  credulity.  I  shall  con- 
sider  myself  as  having  no  hands,  no  eyes,  no  flesh,  no 
blood,  as  having  no  senses,  but,  as  believing  falsely  that 
I  possess  all  these  things.  I  shall  obstinately  adhere 
to  this  opinion  ;  and  if  by  this  means  it  will  not  be  in 
my  power  to  arrive  at  the  knowledge  of  any  truth,  at 
all  events  it  is  in  my  power  to  suspend  my  judgment. 
Therefore  I  shall  take  diligent  care  not  to  receive  into 
my  faith  any  falsehood,  and  I  shall  prepare  my  mind 
so  well  against  all  the  wiles  of  this  great  deceiver, 
that,  powerful  and  crafty  as  he  may  be,  he  will  never 
be  able  to  impose  upon  me 

*  Cf.  Princ.,  I,  5.  Why  we  may  doubt  even  of  mathematical 
demonstrations. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  113 


SECOND  MEDITATION. 

Of  the  nature  of  the  human  mind ;  and  that  it  is  more 
easily  known  than  the  body. 

YESTERDAY'S  meditation  has  filled  my  mind  with 
so  many  doubts  that  it  is  henceforth  impossible  for 
me  to  forget  them,  and  yet  I  do  not  see  howl  can  re- 
solve them I  shall  nevertheless  make  an  effort 

and  follow  on  once  more  in  the  way  on  which  I 
entered  yesterday  ;  withdrawing  myself  from  every- 
thing in  which  I  can  imagine  the  least  doubt,  just 
as  tif  I  knew  it  to  be  absolutely  false  ;  and  I  shall 
keep  steadily  on  in  this  path  until  I  have  found  some- 
thing certain,  or  at  least,  if  I  can  do  nothing  else, 
until  I  have  found  out  certainly  that  there  is  nothing 
in  the  world  that  is  certain.*  Archimedes,  in  order 
to  move  the  terrestrial  globe  from  its  place  and  trans- 
port it  into  another,  required  only  a  point  which  should 
be  firm  and  immovable,  and  even  so  may  I  entertain 
high  hopes  if  only  I  am  fortunate  enough  to  find 
barely  one  thing  which  is  certain  and  indubitable,  f 

*  Ettdoxe. — But  for  fear  you  will  refuse  to  follow  me  further,  I 
assure  you  that  these  doubts,  which  at  the  outset  make  you  afraid, 
are  like  the  phantoms  and  the  shadowy  forms  which  appear  in  the 
night-time  in  the  uncertain  glimmer  of  a  feeble  light.  Fear  pur- 
sues you  if  you  flee  from  them  ;  but  march  up  to  them,  lay  your 
hands  upon  them,  and  you  will  find  them  nothing  but  air,  nothing 
but  shadow,  and  your  fears  will  vanish  forever. — Recherche  de 
la  Verite.  (CEuvres,  t.  xi,  p.  3?2.) 

\Eudoxe. — Only  give  me  your  attention.  I  am  going  to  lead 
you  further  than  you  think.  Indeed,  from  this  universal  doubt, 


114  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

I  make  the  supposition,  then,  that  all  things  which  I 
see  are  false  ;  I  persuade  myself  that  nothing  has  ever 
existed  of  all  that  my  memory,  filled  with  illusions, 
has  represented  to  me  ;  I  consider  that  I  have  no 
senses  ;  I  assume  that  body,  figure,  extension,  motion, 
and  place  are  only  fictions  of  my  mind.  What  is  there, 
then,  which  can  be  held  to  be  true  ?  Perhaps  nothing 
at  all,  except  the  statement  that  there  is  nothing  at 
all  that  is  true.  But  how  do  I  know  that  there  is  not 
something  different  from  those  things  which  I  have 
just  pronounced  uncertain,  concerning  which  there 
cannot  be  entertained  the  least  doubt?  Is  there  not 
some  God,  or  some  other  power,  who  puts  these 
thoughts  into  my  mind  ?  That  is  not  necessary,  for 
perhaps  I  am  capable  of  producing  them  of  myself. 
Myself  then  !  at  the  very  least  am  I  not  something  ? 

But  I  have  already  denied  that  1  have  any  senses 
or  any  body  ;  nevertheless  I  hesitate,  for  what  follows 
from  that  ?  Am  I  so  dependent  upon  the  body  and 
the  senses  that  I  cannot  exist  without  them  ?  But  I 
have  persuaded  myself  that  there  is  nothing  at  all  in 
the  world,  that  there  are  no  heavens,  no  earth,  no 
minds,  no  bodies  ;  am  I  then  also  persuaded  that  I 
am  not  ?  Far  from  it  !  Without  doubt  I  exist,  if  I 
am  persuaded,  or  solely  if  I  Have  thought  anything 
whatever.  But  there  is  I  know  not  what  deceiver, 
very  powerful,  very  crafty,  who  employs  all  his  cun- 
ning continually  to  delude  me.  There  is  still  no 
doubt  that  I  exist,  if  he  deceives  me  ;  and  let  him 
deceive  me  as  he  may,  he  will  never  bring  it  about 
that  I  shall  be  nothing,  so  long  as  I  shall  think  some- 

as  from  a  fixed  and  immovable  point,  I  am  resolved  to  derive  the 
knowledge  of  God,  of  yourself,  and  of  the  whole  universe. — 
Recherche  de  la  Verite.  ((Eirurcs,  t.  xi,  p.  353). 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS. 


thing  ^ixjsjts.  Accordingly,  having  considered  it 
and  carefully  examined  everything,  I  am  obliged  to 
conclude  and  to  hold  for  certain  that  this  proposition, 
/  am,  I  exist,  is  necessarily  true,  every  time  that  I 
pronounce  it  or  conceive  it  in  my  mind. 

NOTE.  —  Compare  the  following  passages  illustrative  of 
the  proposition  /  think,  therefore  I  exist  : 

And  observing  that  this  truth,  /  think,  therefore  I  am, 
was  so  firm  and  so  certain  that  no  suggestions  of  skeptics, 
however  extravagant,  could  ever  shake  it,  I  concluded  that  I 
might  accept  it  without  scruple  as  the  first  principle  of 
the  philosophy  I  was  in  search  of.  —  Discourse  on  Method, 
Part  IV.  (CEuvres,  t.  i,  p.  158.) 


., 
Principles,  I,  7,  and  g. 

J.  For  it  is  contradictory  [repngnat]  to  suppose  that  any- 
thing which  thinks,  at  the  same  time  in  which  it  thinks,  does 
not  exist.  And  hence  this  knowledge,  ego  cogito,  ergo  sum, 
rs  the  first  and  most  certain  of  any  which  presents  itself  to 
one  who  philosophizes  in  an  orderly  manner. 

9.  What  thought  is. 

By  the  word  thought  \cogitatto~\  I  mean  all  that  which, 
when  we  are  conscious,  takes  place  in  us,  in  so  far  as  there 
is  in  us  a  consciousness  of  these  things.  And  accordingly, 
not  only  to  understand,  to  will,  to  imagine,  but  even  to  feel, 
is  the  same  here  as  to  think.  For  if  I  say,  I  see,  or  I  ivalk, 
therefore  I  am;  and  have  in  mind  the  seeing  or  the  walking 
which  is  performed  by  the  body,  the  conclusion  is  not  abso- 
lutely certain  ;  because,  as  often  happens  in  sleep,  I  can 
think  that  I  see,  or  that  I  walk,  although  I  do  not  open  my 
eyes,  or  stir  from  my  place,  and  even,  possibly,  although  I  have 
no  body  ;  but  if  I  have  in  mind  the  sense  itself,  or  conscious- 
ness, of  seeing  or  walking,  which  in  that  case  is  referred  to 
the  mind,  which  alone  perceives,  or  thinks,  itself  to  see  or  to 
walk,  it  is  manifestly  certain.  [Lat.] 

By  the  term  thought  I  understand  all  that  is  within  us 
in  such  manner  that  we  are  immediately  conscious  of  it  by 


Il6  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART   II 

ourselves  and  have  of  it  an  inner  knowledge ;  thus  all  the 
operations  of  the  will,  the  understanding,  the  imagination, 
the  senses,  are  thoughts.  But  I  add  immediately  to  exclude 
the  things  which  follow  and  depend  upon  our  thoughts  ;  for 
example,  voluntary  movement,  which  has  in  truth  the  will  for 
its  source  (principe),  but  still  is  not  itself  a  thought.  Thus, 
to  walk  is  not  a  thought,  but  rather  the  .feeling,  or  the  knowl- 
edge that  one  has  that  he  is  walking. — Reply  to  Second  Ob- 
jection. (Geom.  proof,  Def.  I,  CEuvres,  t.  i,  p.  145.) 

Cogito,  ergo  sum,  not  a  conclusion  of  a  syllogism. 

When  anyone  says,  /  think,  therefore  I  am,  or  /  exist,  he 
does  not  conclude  his  existence  from  his  thought  by  force  of 
any  syllogism,  but  as  a  thing  known  by  itself ;  he  sees  it  by 
a  simple  inspection  of  the  mind,  as  appears  from  this,  that  if 
Tie  should  deduce  it  by  syllogism,  he  must  first  know  this 
major  to  be  true,  Whatever  thinks  is,  or  exists  :  but  on  the 
contrary  he  learns  it  from  his  perceiving  within  himself  that 
it  would  be  impossible  that  he  should  think  if  he  did  not 
exist.  For  it  is  the  property  of  our  mind  to  form  general 
propositions  from  the  knowledge  of  particular  ones. — Reply 
to  Second  Objection.  (CEuvres,  t.  i,  p.  427.)  See  Bouillier, 
t.  i,  p.  63. 

In  criticism  of  the  Second  Meditation  your  friends  bring 
forward  six  things.  The  first  is  that  in  saying  I  think,  there- 
fore I  am,  the  author  of  the  Instances*  will  have  it  that  I 
presuppose  this  major,  he  who  thinks  is  ;  and  accordingly 
that  I  have  at  the  start  adopted  a  presupposition  (prej'uge). 
Wherein  he  misuses  again  the  term  presupposition ;  for 
although  the  name  might  be  applied  to  this  proposition  when 
uttered  unreflectingly,  and  it  might  be  believed  to  be  true 
solely  because  of  its  being  remembered  as  a  judgment  pre- 
viously passed,  yet  it  cannot  be  said  to  be  a  presupposition 
when  one  gives  his  mind  to  it,  because  it  appears  so  evident 
to  the  understanding  that  a  man  cannot  help  believing  it, 
even  though  it  be  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  he  has 
thought  about  it,  and  consequently  there  is  no  presupposition 
whatever  in  the  case.  But  the  more  considerable  error  here 
*  Gassendi. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  117 

is  that  this  author  supposes  that  the  knowledge  of  particular 
propositions  is  always  to  be  deduced  from  universals,  accord- 
ing to  the  order  of  syllogisms  in  logic ;  wherein  he  shows 
that  he  knows  very  little  how  truth  is  to  be  sought ;  for  it  is 
certain  that,  in  order  to  find  it,  we  must  always  begin  with 
the  particular  notions,  in  order  thence  to  arrive  at  the  gen- 
eral notions,  although  we  can  reciprocally,  also,  having 
reached  the  general,  deduce  therefrom  other  particular 
truths.  Thus,  when  one  is  teaching  a  child  the  elements  of 
geometry,  he  will  not  make  him  understand  the  general 
truth,  when  from  two  equal  quantities  equal  parts  are 
taken,  the  remainders  are  equal,  or  that  the  whole  is 
greater  than  any  of  its  parts,  unless  he  shows  him  examples 
of  it  in  particular  cases. — Letter  to  Clerselier,  on  the  objec- 
tions of  Gassendi.  ((Euvres,  t.  ii.  pp.  305-6.) 

These  interpretations  by  Descartes  of  his  own  thought 
must  be  borne  in  mind  when  in  the  Principles  we  find  him 
placing  among  the  common  notions,  or  axioms,  this  universal : 
He  who  thinks  cannot  be  non-existent  while  he  thinks* 

It  is  manifest  that  Descartes  believed  that,  in  reaching 
this  innermost  point  of  personal  self-consciousness,  he  had 
reached  the  point  of  coincidence  of  thought  and  reality. 
From  this  vantage-ground  he  will  now  look  out  to  see  what 
further  revelations  await  him.  But  the  cogito,  ergo  sum,  is 
the  primary  datum  and  starting-point.  In  the  apprehen- 
sion of  this  existential  truth  he  finds  himself  no  longer  in 
the  realm  of  abstract  thought,  but  face  to  face  with  reality. 
Is  this  basis  of  his  system  a  fact,  then,  or  a  principle  ?  A 
fact,  surely,  but  the  supersensible  and  spiritual  fact  of  per- 
sonal existence. 

Descartes'  /  think,  therefore  I  am,  not  identical  with  something 
similar  in  the  writings  of  St.  Augustine  :  "  Quid,  si  falleris  ? 
Si  enim  fallor,  sum.  Nam  qui  non  est,  utique  nee  fall! 
potest,  ac  per  hoc  sum,  si  fallor.  Quia  ergo  sum,  qui  fallor, 
quomodo  esse  me  fallor,  quando  certum  est  me  esse  si 
fallor." — Augustine,  De  Civitate  Dei,  1.  xi,  c.  26.  * 

I   am   obliged   to  you    for  calling   my  attention  to  the 
passage  of  St.  Augustine  to  which  my  /  think,  therefore  2 
*  See  Hamilton's  Reid,  Note  A.,  p.  744. 


Il8  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

am,  bears  some  resemblance  ;  I  read  the  passage  to-day  in 
the]town  library,  and  I  find,  indeed,  that  he  makes  use  of  it  to 
prove  the  certainty  of  our  own  being,  and  then  to  show  that 
there  is  within  us  a  certain  image  of  the  Trinity,  in  that  we 
are,  we  know  that  we  are,  and  we  love  this  being  and  this 
knowledge  within  us  ;  whereas  I  employ  it  to  show  that  this 
/  which  thinks  is  an  immaterial  substance,  and  has  nothing 
corporeal  in  it,  which  are  two  very  different  things,  and  it  is 
so  simple  and  natural  an  inference,  from  the  fact  of  one's 
doubting  to  conclude  that  he  exists,  that  it  might  have  fallen 
from  anybody's  pen  ;  however,  I  am  none  the  less  pleased  to 
meet  with  it  in  St.  Augustine,  if  only  to  close  the  mouths  of 
those  small  wits  who  have  tried  to  raise  difficulties  about 
this  principle. — Letter  to  M.  (de  Zuytlichem)  (Huyghens  ?). 
(CEuvres,  t.  viii,  p.  421.) 

But  I  do  not  yet  know  with  sufficient  clearness 
what  I  am,  I  who  am  certain  that  I  am  ;  wherefore  I 
must  be  on  my  guard  henceforth  not  unadvisedly  to 
take  something  else  for  myself,  and  so  fall  into  a  mis- 
take in  this  knowledge,  which  I  maintain  to  be  more 
certain  and  more  evident  than  all  that  I  have  gained 
before  it.  Accordingly,  I  shall  now  consider  anew 
that  which  I  believed  to  be  before  I  entered  into  these 
last  reflections  ;  and  of  my  old  opinions  I  shall  cut  off 
everyone  which  is  in  the  least  oppugned  by  the  argu- 
ments which  I  have  just  stated,  so  that  there  shall  re- 
main only  that  precisely  which  is  entirely  certain  and 
indubitable.  What  is  it,  then,  which  I  have  believed 
myself  to  be  hitherto  ?  Undoubtedly,  I  have  thought 
that  I  was  a  man.  But  what,  then,  is  a  man  ?  Shall  I 
say  that  a  man  is  a  reasonable  animal  ?  No,  surely, 
for  then  it  would  be  necessary  for  me  to  find  out  what 
animal  is  and  what  reasonable  is,  and  thus  from  a 
single  question  I  should  fall  by  degrees  into  an  infini- 
tude of  others  more  difficult  and  more  embarrassing ; 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  119 

and  I  am  not  willing  to  squander  the  little  time 
and  leisure  that  remain  to  me  in  solving  diffi- 
culties of  that  sort.*  But  I  pause  rather  to  con- 
sider here  the  thoughts  which  arose  before  of  them- 
selves in  my  mind,  and  which  were  inspired  in  me  by 
my  own  nature  simply,  whenever  I  addressed  myself  to 
the  consideration  of  my  being.  I  considered  myself, 
in  the  first  place,  as  having  a  face,  hands,  arms,  and 
all  this  mechanism  composed  of  bone  and  flesh,  such 
as  it  appears  in  a  corpse,  which  I  designated  by  the 
name  body.  I  considered,  moreover,  that  I  took 
food,  that  I  walked,  that  I  felt  and  that  I  thought, 
and  I  referred  all  these  actions  to  the  mind  ;  but  I 
did  not  stop  to  think  what  this  mind  was,  or,  indeed, 
if  I  did  stop  to  think,  I  imagined  that  it  was  some- 
thing extremely  rare  and  subtile,  like  breath,  a  flaine, 
or  a  very  thin  vapor,  which  was  instilled  and  spread 
through  my  grosser  parts.  As  to  the  nature  of  the 
body,  I  had  no  doubt  whatever  ;  but  I  thought  I 
knew  it  very  distinctly  ;  and  had  I  desired  to  explain 

*  Eudoxe. — For  example,  if  I  should  ask  Episte'mon  what  a  man 
is,  and  he  should  answer,  as  they  do  in  the  schools,  that  a  man  is 
a  rational  animal ;  and  then,  to  explain  these  two  terms,  which  are 
no  less  obscure  than  the  first,  he  should  conduct  us  through  all  the 
steps  which  they  call  metaphysical,  we  should  be  involved  in  a 
1  ibyrinth  from  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  escape.  In  fact, 
from  this  question  there  arise  two  others  ;  first,  what  is  an  animal  ? 
second,  what  is  rational  ?  And  further,  if,  to  explain  animal,  he 
should  tell  us  it  is  something  living,  and  that  something  living  is 
an  animated  body,  that  body  is  corporeal  substance,  you  see  that 
the  questions,  like  the  branches  of  a  genealogical  tree,  would  go 
on  increasing  and  multiplying  ;  and  at  last  all  these  fine  questions 
would  end  in  mere  tautology,  which  would  make  nothing  clearer, 
and  would  leave  us  in  our  former  ignorance. — Recherche  de  la 
Verite.  (CEuvres,  t.  xi,  p.  355.) 


120  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

it  according  to  the  notions  I  then  had  of  it,  I  should 
have  described  it  in  this  manner. 

By  the  •  term  body  I  understand  all  that  can  be 
bounded  by  some  figure;  which  can  be  contained  within 
some  place,  and  fill  a  space  in  such  a  manner  that  every 
other  body  is  excluded  therefrom  ;  which  can  have 
sensations  either  by  touch,  or  by  sight,  or  by  hearing, 
or  by  taste,  or  by  smell,  which  can  be  moved  in 
various  ways, — not,  in  truth,  by  itself,  but  by  some  out- 
ward thing  by  which  it  may  be  touched,  and  the  im- 
pression of  which  it  may  receive  ;  for  to  have  the 
power  of  being  moved  by  itself,  as  also  of  feeling 
and  of  thinking,  I  did  not  believe  at  all  that  this  be- 
longed to  the  nature  of  body  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  was 
astonished  rather  to  find  such  powers  occurring  in 
any  bodies.  But  as  for  me,  what  am  I,  now  that  I  am 
supposing  that  there  is  a  certain  genius  extremely 
powerful,  and,  if  I  dare  say  it,  malicious  and  crafty, 
who  employs  all  his  energies  and  all  his  cunning  to 
deceive  me  ?  Can  I  assure  myself  that  I  have  the 
least  of  all  those  things  which  I  have  just  now  said 
belong  to  the  nature  of  body?  I  pause  to  think 
attentively ;  I  go  over  and  over  all  these  things  in 
my  mind,  and  I  do  not  meet  with  any  one  which  I 
can  say  is  in  me.  It  is  not  necessary  to  stop  to 
enumerate  them.  Let  us,  then,  pass  on  to  the  attri- 
butes of  the  soul,  and  see  whether  any  one  of  thVrh  is 
in  me. 

The  first  are  my  taking  food  and  walking  ;  but  if  it 
be  true  that  I  have  no  body,  it  is  also  true  that  I  can- 
not walk  or  feed  myself.  Another  is  perceiving  ; 
but  perception  is  impossible  without  the  body,  although 
I  have  thought  before  that  I  perceived  many  things 
during  sleep  which,  on  awaking,  I  have  recognized  as 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  Vi£jJ 

not  being  really  perceived.  Another  is  thinking  ;  and 
I  find  here  an  attribute  which  belongs  to  me ;  thought 
alone  cannot  be  detached  from  me.  I  am,  I  exist 
that  is  certain  ;  but  how  long?  As  long  as  I  think  ; 
because  it  might  happen  that  if  I  should  cease  entirely 
from  thinking  I  might  in  the  same  moment  cease 
utterly  from  being.*  I  am  admitting  nothing  now 
which  is  not  necessarily  true  ;  I  am,  then,  to  speak 
with  precision,  a  thing  which  thinks,  that  is  to  say, 
a  mind,  an  understanding,  or  a  reason  ;  f  terms  the 
significance  of  which  was  unknown  to  me  before. 

But  I  am  a  truly  existing  thing  ;  but  what  thing  ? 
I  have  said  ;  a  thing  which  thinks  ;  and  what  more?  I 
stir  up  my  imagination  to  see  whether  I  am  not  still 
something  in  addition.  I  am  not  this  collection  of 
members  which  is  called  the  human  body  ;  I  am  not 
a  thin  and  penetrating  vapor  diffused  throughout 
these  members  ;  I  am  not  a  wind,  a  breath,  a  vapor  ; 
nor  anything  at  all  of  all  that  I  am  able  to  picture  or 
imagine  myself  to  be,  since  I  have  assumed  that  all 
that  is  nothing  at  all,  and  that  without  changing  this 
assumption  I  find  that  I  do  not  cease  to  be  certain 
that  I  am  something. 

But  what  is  it,  then,  that  I  am  £~,A  thing  which 
thinks.  What  is  a  thing  which  thinks  I-  It  is  a  thing 
which  doubts,  which  understands,  which  conceives, 
which  affirms,  which  denies,  which  wills,  which  wills 
not,  which  imagines  also,  and  which  perceives.  Surely, 
It  is  no  small  matter  if  all  these  things  belong  to  my 
nature.  But  why  do  they  not  belong  to  it?  Am  I 
not  that  even  which  now  doubts  almost  everything  ; 

*  See  reply  to  Hyperaspistes,  cited  below,  p.  128. 
f  For  Hobbes's  objection  and  Descartes'  reply  see  Obj.  e 
(Euvres,  t.  i,  p.  468  et  seq. 


122  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  II 

which  nevertheless  understands  and  conceives  certain 
things  ;  which  is  assured  and  affirms  these  only  to  be 
true,  and  denies  the  rest  ;  which  wills  and  desires  to 
know  more  ;  which  wills  not  to  be  deceived  ;  which 
imagines  many  things,  even  sometimes  in  spite  of  my- 
self ;  and  which  also  perceives  many,  as  if  by  the  inter- 
position of  bodily  organs.  Is  there  nothing  of  all 
.that  which  is  as  true  as  it  is  certain  that  I  am  and 
that  I  exist,  even  although  I  were  always  sleeping, 
and  he  who  gave  me  my  being  were  using  all  his 
skill  to  deceive  me  ?  Is  there  also  any  of  these  at- 
tributes which  can  be  distinguished  from  my  thought, 
or  which  can  be  said  to  be  separate  from  myself  ? 
For  it  is  so  evident  of  itself  that  it  is  I  who  doubt, 
who  understand,  and  who  desire,  that  there  is  no 
need  here  of  adding  anything  to  explain  it.  ^And  I 
also  certainly  have  the  power  of  imagining;  for. al- 
though it  might  happen  (as  I  have  already  supposed) 
that  the  things  which  I  have  imagined  were  not  true, 
nevertheless  this  power  of  imagining  does  not  cease 
really  to  exist  in  me,  and  to  form  part  of  my  thought. 

Finally,  I  am  the  same  being  which  perceives  ;  that 
is,  which  has  knowledge  of  certain  things  as  if  by  the 
organs  of  sense,  since  in  reality  I  see  light,  I  hear 
noise,  I  feel  warmth.  But  I  have  been  told  that  these 
appearances  are  false,  and  that  I  am  asleep.  Granted  ; 
nevertheless,  at  least,  it  is  very  certain  that  it  .appears 
to  me  that  I  see  light,  that  I  hear  noise,  and  that  I 
feel  warmth  ;  that  cannot  be  false  ;  and  it  is  just  that 
which  in  me  I  call  perceiving  ;  and  that,  precisely,  is 
nothing  else  than  thinking.  From  this  point  I  begin 
to  know  what  I  am  with  more  clearness  and  distinct- 
ness than  heretofore. 

But  nevertheless  it  still  appears  to  me,  and  I  cannot 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  123 

help  believing,  that  corporeal  things,  the  images  of 
which  are  formed  by  thought,  which  fall  under  the 
senses,  and  which  the  senses  themselves  observe,  are 
not  much  more  distinctly  known  than  that — I  know 
not  what — part  of  myself  which  does  not  fall  under 
the  imagination  :  although,  indeed,  it  would  be  very 
strange  to  say  that  I  know  and  comprehend  more 
distinctly  things  whose  existence  appears  to  me  doubt- 
ful, which  are  unknown  to  me,  and  which  do  not  be- 
long to  me,  than  those  of  the  truth  of  which  I  am 
persuaded,  which  are  known  to  me,  which  belong  to 
my  proper  nature — in  a  word,  than  myself.  But  I  see 
well  enough  how  it  is  ;  my  mind  is  a  vagabond,  which 
takes  delight  in  leading  me  astray,  and  will  not  suffer 
itself  to  be  kept  within  the  strict  bounds  of  truth. 

Let  us  then  give  it  free  rein  for  once,  and,  granting 
every  sort  of  liberty,  let  us  allow  it  to  dwell  upon  the 
objects  which  appear  to  it  externally,  in  order  that 
hereafter,  when  we  shall  proceed  to  withdraw  it  gently 
and  at  the  right  time,  and  detain  it  upon  the  considera- 
tion of  its  own  being  and  the  things  which  it  finds 
within  itself,  thenceforward  it  shall  be  more  easily 
regulated  and  guided.  Let  us  then  consider  the 
things  which  are  commonly  thoifght  to  be  the  easiest  of 
all  to  know,  and  that  are  believed  to  be  most  distinctly 
known, — that  is  to  say,  bodies  that  we  touch  and  see  ; 
not,  indeed,  such  bodies  in  general, — for  these  general 
notions  are  usually  a  little  more  confused  ;  but  let  us 
consider  a  particular  body.  Let  us  take,  for  instance, 
this  piece  of  wax 

What  then  !  I  who  appear  to  conceive  of  this  piece 
of  wax  with  so  much  clearness  and  distinctness,  do  I 
not  know  myself  not  only  with  much  more  truth  and 
certainty,  but  even  with  much  more  distinctness  and 


124  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

clearness  !  For  if  I  judge  that  the  wax  is  or  exists, 
from  the  fact  that  I  see  it,  certainly  it  follows  much 
more  evidently  that  I  am  or  that  I  exist  myself,  from 
the  fact  that  I  see  it,  for  it  may  be  that  what  I  see  is 
not  in  reality  wax  ;  it  may  also  be  that  I  have  not  eyes 
even  to  see  anything ;  but  it  cannot  be  that  while  I 
see,  or — what  I  do  not  distinguish  therefrom — while  I 
think  I  see,  I  who  think  am  not  something.  Like- 
wise, if  I  judge  that  the  wax  exists  from  the  fact  that 
I  touch  it,  the  same  thing  will  follow,  to  wit :  that  I 
am  ;  and  if  I  judge  so  because  my  imagination — or 
something  else,  whatever  it  may  be — persuades  me 
thus,  I  shall  always  draw  the  same  conclusion.  And 
what  I  have  said  here  of  the  wax  is  applicable  to  all 
other  things  external  to  me,  and  which  are  to  be  met 
with  outside  of  me.  And,  moreover,  if  the  notion  or 
perception  of  the  wax  appeared  to  me  more  clear  and 
distinct  after  not  only  the  seeing  it  and  the  touching  it, 
but  after  many  other  causes  had  rendered  it  most  man- 
ifest to  me,  with  how  much  greater  evidence,  distinct- 
ness, and  clearness,  must  it  be  admitted  that  I  know  at 
present  myself,  since  all  the  reasons  which  contribute 
to  the  knowing  and  the  conceiving  of  the  nature  of  the 
wax  prove  much  better  the  nature  of  my  mind  ;  and, 
besides,  there  are  so  many  other  things  in  the  mind 
itseif  which  can  contribute  to  the  revelation  of  its 
nature,  that  those  which  depend  upon  the  body,  as 
these  do,  hardly  deserve  to  be  taken  into  the  account. 
But  at  last,  by  degrees  almost  imperceptible  to  my- 
self, I  have  reached  the  point  I  desired,  because,  since 
there  is  one  thing  at  present  manifest  to  me,  that 
bodies  themselves  are  not  really  known  by  the  senses 
or  by  the  faculty  of  imagination,  and  that  they  are 
not  known  from  the  fact  that  they  are  seen  or  touched, 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  125 

but  solely  from  the  fact  that  they  are  understood,  or 
at  least  comprehended  by  thought,  —  I  see  clearly  that 
there  is  nothing  which  is  more  easy  for  me  to  know 
than  my  mind.*  But  because  it  is  difficult  to  rid 
one's  self  so  promptly  of  an  opinion  to  which  one  has 
been  accustomed  for  a  long  time,  it  will  be  well  for 
me  to  stop  a  while  at  this  point,  in  order  that  by  longer 
meditation  I  may  impress  more  deeply  upon  my  mem- 
ory this  new  knowledge. 

*  Cf.  Princ.  I,  8,  n.     (CEuvres,  t.  iii,  pp.  67-69.)    Veitch's  Des- 
cartes, pp.  195-197. 


126  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         (PART  II 


THIRD   MEDITATION. 

Of  God :  that  he  exists. 

....  I  am  certain  then  that  I  am  a  thing  that  thinks  ; 
but  do  I  not  then  also  know  that  which  is  necessary 
to  make  me  certain  of  anything  ?  Certainly,  in  this 
primary  knowledge  there  is  nothing  which  assures  me 
of  its  truth  but  the  clear  and  distinct  perception  of 
what  I  affirm,  which  test  of  truth  would  not  be  suffi- 
cient to  assure  me  that  what  I  affirm  is  true,  if  it  could 
ever  happen  that  a  thing  which  I  conceive  thus  clearly 
and  distinctly  should  prove  false  :  and,  accordingly,  it 
appears  to  me  that  I  can  now  lay  down  this  as  a  gen- 
eral rule,  that  all  things  which  we  conceive  very 
clearly  and  very  distinctly  are  true.* 

And,  certainly,  since  I  have  no  reason  to  believe  that 
there  is  a  God  who  can  deceive,  and  as  I  have  not  yet 
even  considered  the  arguments  which  prove  that  there 
is  a  God,  the  reason  for  doubt  which  depends  solely 
on  that  opinion  is  very  frivolous,  and,  so  to  speak, 
metaphysical.  But  in  order  to  be  able  to  remove  it 
entirely  I  must  examine  whether  there  is  a  God,  so 
soon  as  the  occasion  shall  present  itself  ;  and  if  I  find 
that  there  is  one,  I  must  also  examine  whether  he  can 
be  a  deceiver  :  for  without  the  knowledge  of  these 
two  truths  I  do  not  see  that  I  can  ever  be  certain  of 
anything.  And  in  order  that  I  may  have  occasion  to 

*  Cf .  Discourse,  pt.  iv.  ((Enures,  t.  i,  p.  159.)  Veitch's  Des- 
cartes, p.  35.  Also,  Princ.  I,  45-50.  See  below. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  127 

examine  into  this  matter  without  interrupting  the 
order  of  meditation  which  I  have  proposed  to  myself, 
which  is  to  pass  by  degrees  from  notions  which  I  shall 
find  first  in  my  mind  to  those  which  I  shall  be  able  to 
discover  afterward,  it  is  necessary  here  that  I  divide 
all  my  thoughts  into  certain  classes,  and  that  I  con- 
sider in  which  of  these  classes  truth  and  error  properly 
exist. 

Among  my  thoughts,  some  are,  as  it  were,  the  images 
of  things,  and  it  is  to  these  alone  that  the  term£3eati~ 
properly  belongs  ;  as  when  I  represent  to  myself  a 
man,  or  a  chimera,  or  the  heavens,  or  an  angel,  or  God 
even.  Moreover,  besides  that,  there  are  certain  other 
forms  ;  as  when  1  desire  and  fear,  when  I  affirm  or 
deny,  I  do  then,  indeed,  conceive  something  as  the  sub- 
ject of  the  action  of  my  mind,  but  I  add  also  some- 
thing else  by  this  action  to  the  idea  that  I  have  of  this 
thing  and  of  this  class  of  thoughts  ;  some  are  called 
volitions  or  affections,  and  others  judgments. 

Now,  so  far  as  ideas  are  concerned,  if  they  are  con- 
sidered simply  in  themselves,  and  as  having  no  relation 
to  anything  else,  they  cannot,  properly  speaking,  be 
false  ;  because,  whether  I  imagine  a  goat  or  a  chimera, 
ifTs  no  less  true  that  I  imagine  the  one  than  the  other. 
There  can  be  no  fear,  also,  of  encountering  falsity  in 
affections  or  volitions  ;  for  although  I  may  desire 
things  evil,  or  even  things  which  never  have  existed, 
nevertheless,  for  all  that,  it  is  no  less  true  that  I  desire 
them. 

Thus  there  remain  judgments  alone,  in  which  I 
must  be  diligently  on  guard  against  being  deceived. 
But  the  principal  error,  and  the  one  of  most  common 

*Geom.  proof,  Def.  II.  (CEuvres,  t.  i,  p.  452.)  Veitch's  Des~ 
carles,  Note  XI,  p.  276. 


128  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

occurrence,  consists  in  my  judging  that  the  ideas 
which  are  in  me  are  like  or  are  conformed  to  things 
which  are  outside  of  me ;  for  certainly,  if  I  consider 
simply  the  ideas  as  certain  modes  or  forms  of  my 
thought,  without  desiring  to  refer  them  to  anything 
external,  they  can  hardly  afford  any  occasion  of 
error.  But,  among  my  ideas,  some  appear  to  me  to 
be  born  with  me,*  others  to  be  strangers  and  to  come 

*  It  is  not  without  reason  that  I  am  assured  that  the  human  soul, 
wherever  it  may  be,  always  thinks,  even  in  the  mother's  womb. 
What  reason  more  certain  or  more  evident  could  be  desired  than  that 
which  I  employ,  since  I  have  proved  that  its  nature  or  its  essence 
consists  in  its  being  a  thing  which  thinks,  just  as  the  essence  of 
the  body  consists  in  being  a  thing  extended  ;  for  it  is  not  possible 
to  deprive  anything  of  its  own  essence  ;  and  therefore  it  seems  to 
me  that  no  more  account  should  be  made  of  him  who  denies  that 
his  soul  was  thinking  at  a  time  when  he  does  not  remember  to 
have  perceived  that  it  was  thinking,  than  if  he  should  deny  that 
his  body  was  extended  at  a  time  when  he  did  not  perceive  that 
there  was  any  extension.  I  do  not  say  that  I  am  persuaded  that 
the  mind  of  the  babe  in  its  mother's  womb  thinks  on  metaphysical 
subjects  ;  on  the  contrary, — if  I  may  be  permitted  to  form  a  con- 
jecture upon  a  matter  concerning  which  so  little  can  be  known, — 
since  we  find  every  day  that  our  mind  is  so  closely  united  to  the 
body  that  it  almost  constantly  suffers  from  it,  and  although  a 
mind  acting  in  a  body  sound  and  strong  enjoys  some  freedom  to 
think  on  other  things  besides  those  which  the  senses  present  to  it, 
nevertheless  experience  teaches  us  only  too  often  that  there  is  no 
such  freedom  in  the  case  of  sick  people,  nor  for  those  who  are 
asleep,  nor  for  infants,  and  that  there  is  generally  less  as  age  is 
less  advanced  ;  there  is  nothing  more  reasonable  than  to  believe 
that  the  mind  newly  joined  to  the  infant  body  is  occupied  only 
with  feeling  or  being  obscurely  conscious  of  the  ideas  of  pain,  of 
pleasure,  of  cold,  of  warmth,  or  such  like,  which  spring  from  the 
union  or — so  to  speak — the  mixture  of  the  mind  with  the  body. 
And  nevertheless,  in  this  state  even,  the  mind  has  not  less  in 
itself  the  ideas  of  God,  of  itself,  and  of  all  those  truths  which  are 
self-evident,  than  adult  persons  do  when  they  are  not  thinking  of 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  129 

from  without,  and  others  to  be  made  and  invented  by 
myself. 

As  regards  the  faculty  to  conceive  what  in  general 
is  called  a  thing,  or  a  truth,  or  a  thought,  it  appears 
to  me  that  I  have  that  [power]  from  no  other  source 
than  my  own  nature  ;  but  if  I  now  hear  some  noise, 
if  I  see  the  sun,  if  I  feel  warmth,  up  to  this  moment 
I  have  judged  that  these  sensations  proceeded  from 
things  which  coexist  outside  of  me  ;  and,  finally,  it 
appears  to  me  that  sirens,  hippogriffs,  and  all  other 
similar  chimeras  are  fictions  and  inventions  of  my 
mind.  But  also,  on  the  other  hand,  perhaps  I  may 
persuade  myself  that  all  these  ideas  are  of  the  kind 
that  I  have  called  foreign,  and  which  come  from  with- 
out, or,  indeed,  that  they  are  all  born  with  me,  or, 
perhaps,  that  they  have  all  been  made  by  me  ;  for  I 
have  not  yet  clearly  discovered  their  true  source. 
And  what  I  have  principally  to  do  at  this  point  is  to 
consider  with  respect  to  those  which  appear  to  me  to 
come  from  objects  outside  of  me,  what  are  the  reasons 
which  oblige  me  to  think  that  they  resemble  those 
objects. 

The  first  of  these  reasons  is  that  I  am  so  taught  by 
nature  ;  and  the  second,  that  I  discover  in  myself 
that  these  ideas  do  not  depend  upon  my  will ;  for 
frequently  they  present  themselves  to  me  in  spite  of 
myself,  as,  at  this  time,  whether  I  will  or  no,  I  feel 
warmth,  and  therefore  I  am  persuaded  that  this  feel- 
ing— or,  if  you  please,  this  idea — of  warmth  is  produced 

them  ;  for  it  does  not  acquire  them  afterward  with  increasing 
age.  And  I  do  not  doubt  that  at  that  time,  if  it  were  freed  from 
the  bondage  of  the  body,  it  would  find  these  ideas  within  itself. 
— Reply  to  Hyperaspistes.  Lettres  ((Euvres  t.  viii,  p.  268).  Cf. 
Veitch's  Descartes,  Note  VI,  p.  287. 


130  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  II 

in  me  by  something  different  from  myself,  to  wit,  by 
the  heat  of  the  fire  before  which  I  am  seated.  And  I 
see  nothing  which  appears  to  me  more  reasonable 
than  to  judge  that  this  foreign  thing  emits  and  im- 
presses upon  me  its  likeness  rather  than  something 
else.  Now  I  must  see  whether  these  reasons  are  suf- 
ficiently strong  and  convincing.  When  I  say  that  it 
seems  to  me  that  this  is  taught  me  by  nature,  I  under- 
stand, by  this  word  nature,  simply  a  certain  inclina- 
tion which  impels  me  to  believe  it,  and  not  a  natural 
light  which  makes  me  know  that  it  is  true.*  But 
these  two  expressions  are  very  different.  For  I  can 
call  in  question  nothing  which  the  natural  light  has 
made  me  see  to  be  true,  as,  for  instance,  it  has  so 
often  made  me  see  that  from  the  fact  that  I  doubt  I 
can  conclude  that  I  exist ;  inasmuch  as  I  have  in  me 
no  other  faculty  or  power  for  distinguishing  the  true 
from  the  false,  which  can  teach  me  that  what  this 
light  shows  me  to  be  true  is  not  so,  and  in  which  I 
can  put  so  much  confidence  as  I  can  in  this. 

But  as  concerns  those  inclinations  which  also  ap- 
pear to  be  natural  to  me,  I  have  often  observed 
that  when  there  was  a  choice  to  be  made  between 
virtues  and  vices,  that  they  have  carried  me  not  less 
toward  the  evil  than  toward  the  good  ;  and  therefore 
it  is  that  I  have  no  more  reason  to  follow  them  in 
matters  where  the  true  and  the  false  are  concerned. 
And  as  for  the  other  reason,  that  these  ideas  must 
come  from  some  other  source  than  myself,  since  they 
do  not  depend  upon  my  will,  I  do  not  find  it  any  more 
convincing.  For  in  quite  the  same  way  as  those  in- 
clinations of  which  I  am  just  now  speaking  are  found 
in  me  notwithstanding  that  they  do  not  always  agree 

*  Cf.  Hobbes'  objection  and  Descartes'  reply  cited  below. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  131 

with  my  will,  so,  perhaps,  there  may  be  in  me  some 
faculty  or  power  adequate  to  produce  these  ideas, 
without  the  aid  of  any  external  things,  although  it 
may  not  be  known  to  me  ;  as,  indeed,  it  has  always 
appeared  to  me  up  to  the  present  that  they  are  formed 
within  me  thus  when  I  was  asleep,  without  the  aid  of 
the  objects  which  they  represent.  And  even  if  I 
should  admit  that  they  are  formed  by  these  objects  it 
would  not  necessarily  follow  that  they  must  resemble 
them. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  have  observed  in  many  in- 
stances that  there  is  a  great  difference  between  the 
object  and  its  idea.  As,  for  example,  I  find  in  myself 
two  ideas  of  the  sun  quite  different :  the  one  has  its 
origin  in  the  senses,  and  is  to  be  put  in  the  class  of 
those  which  I  have  said  above  come  from  without  ;  by 
which  it  appears  to  me  extremely  small ;  the  other  is 
drawn  from  astronomical  considerations,  that  is  to 
say,  from  certain  notions  born  with  me,  or  at  least 
formed  by  myself,  in  whatever  way  that  may  be  ;  by 
which  it  appears  to  me  many  times  greater  than  the 
whole  earth.  Certainly  these  two  ideas  which  I  con- 
ceive  of  the  sun  cannot  both  be  like  the  same  sun  ; 
and  reason  makes  me  believe  that  that  which  comes 
immediately  from  its  appearance  is  the  one  which 
least  resembles  it. 

All  this  makes  me  sufficiently  aware  that,  up  to  this 
hour,  it  has  not  been  by  a  judgment  certain  and  pre- 
meditated, but  solely  by  a  blind  and  forward  impulse, 
that  I  have  believed  that  there  were  things  external 
to  myself,  and  different  from  my  own  being,  which, 
by  the  organs  of  my  senses,  or  by  some  other  means, 
whatever  it  may  be,  send  into  me  their  ideas  or  images, 
and  imprint  there  their  resemblances. 


132  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

* 

But  there  presents  itself  still  another  way  of  finding 
out  whether,  among  the  things  the  ideas  of  which  I 
have  in  me,  there  are  any  which  exist  externally  to 
me.  To  wit :  if  these  ideas  are  considered  only  in  so 
far  as  they  are  certain  modes  of  thought,  I  do  not  dis- 
cover among  them  any  difference  or  inequality,  and 
all  appear  to  proceed  from  me  in  the  same  way  ;  but 
considering  them  as  images,  of  which  some  represent 
one  thing  and  others  another,  it  is  evident  that 
they  are  very  different  from  one  another.  For, 
in  reality,  those  which  represent  to  me  sub- 
stances are  without  doubt  something  more,  and 
contain  in  themselves,  so  to  speak,  more  objective 
reality,*  that  is  to  say,  participate  by  representation 
in  more  degrees  of  being,  or  perfection,  than  those 
which  represent  to  me  simply  modes  or  accidents. 
Moreover,  that  by  which  I  conceive  a  God,  sovereign, 
eternal,  infinite,  immutable,  all-knowing,  all-powerful, 
and  creator  universal  of  all  things  external  to  him- 
self, this,  I  say,  has  certainly  in  itself  more  objec- 
tive reality  than  those  by  which  finite  substances  are 
represented  to  me. 

Now  it  is  a  thing  manifest  by  the  natural  light  that 
there  must  be  at  least  as  much  reality  in  the  efficient 
and  total  cause  as  in  its  effect,  for  whence  can  the 
effect  draw  its  reality  save  from  its  cause,  and  how 
could  this  cause  communicate  it  to  it,  if  it  did  not 
have  it  in  itself  ?  And  from  this  it  follows  not  only 
that  nothing  cannot  produce  anything,  but  also,  that 
that  which  is  more  perfect,  that  is  to  say,  which  con- 
tains in  itself  more  reality,  cannot  be  a  result  of  or  be 
dependent  upon  the  less  perfect.  And  this  truth  is  not 

*  Cf.    Reply  to   Second  Objections,  Geom.   proof,    Def.    Ill 
((Enures,  t.  i,  452);  Veitch,  Descartes,  p. 267  and  Note  III,  p.  285. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  133 

only  clear  and  evident  in  the  effects  which  have  that 
reality  which  philosophers  call  actual  or  formal,  but 
also  in  the  ideas  wherein  is  considered  simply  that 
reality  which  they  call  objective  :  for  example,  the 
stone  which  has  not  yet  existed  not  only  cannot  now 
begin  to  be,  unless  it  is  produced  by  something  which 
has  in  itself  formally  or  eminently*  all  that  which 
enters  into  the  composition  of  the  stone,  that  is  to 
say,  which  contains  in  itself  the  same  things,  or  others 
more  excellent  than  those  which  are  in  the  stone;  and 
heat  cannot  be  produced  in  a  subject  which  was  be- 
fore devoid  of  it  unless  it  be  by  something  which  is  of 
an  order,  a  degree,  or  a  kind  at  least  as  perfect  as  heat; 
and  so  ojf  other  things. 

But  still,  besides  that,  the  idea  of  heat,  or  of  the 
stone,  cannot  be  in  me,  unless  it  has  been  put  there 
by  some  cause  which  contains  in  itself  as  much  real- 
ity as  I  conceive  to  be  in  the  heat  or  in  the  stone  ; 
for  although  this  cause  may  not  transmit  to  my  idea 
anything  of  its  own  actual  or  formal  reality,  it  must 
not  on  that  account  be  imagined  that  this  cause  is 
less  real ;  but  it  must  be  understood  that  every  idea 
being  a  work  of  the  mind,  its  nature  is  such  that  there  is 
not  to  be  demanded  of  it  any  other  formal  reality  than 
that  which  it  receives  and  borrows  from  thought,  or 
the  mind,  of  which  it  is  simply  a  mode,  that  is  to  say 
a  manner  or  way  of  thinking.  But  in  order  that  an 
idea  contain  one  such  objective  reality  rather  than 
another,  it  must  derive  this,  without  doubt,  from  some 
cause,  in  which  there  exists  at  least  as  much  of  formal 
reality  as  this  idea  contains  of  objective  reality  ;  for 
if  we  suppose  that  there  is  found  anything  in  an  idea 

*  Cf.  Reply  to  Second  Objections,  Geom.  proof,  Def.  IV  (CEu- 
vres,  t.  i,  p.  452);  Veitch,  Descartes,  p.  268  and  Note  VII,  p.  289. 


134  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

which  is  not  met  with  in  its  cause,  it  must  then  be 
that  it  has  this  from  nothing.  But  imperfect  as  may 
be  this  mode  of  existence  by  which  a  thing  exists  ob- 
jectively, or  by  representation  in  the  understanding 
through  its  idea,  certainly  it  cannot,  nevertheless,  be 
said  that  this  mode  and  manner  of  being  is  nothing, 
nor,  consequently,  that  this  idea  derives  its  origin 
from  nothing.  Nor  ought  I,  moreover,  to  imagine 
that,  because  the  reality  which  I  consider  in  my  ideas 
is  only  objective,  it  is  not  necessary  that  the  same 
reality  should  be  formally  or  actually  in  the  causes  of 
these  ideas,  but  that  it  is  enough  that  it  be  also  ob- 
jective in  them  ;  because,  just  as  this  mode  of  exist- 
ing objectively  belongs  to  ideas  from  their  own 
natures,  likewise  the  manner  or  mode  of  existing 
formally  belongs  to  the  causes  of  these  ideas  (at  least 
to  the  first  and  principal)  from  their  own  nature. 
And  although  it  might  happen  that  one  idea  should 
give  birth  to  another  idea,  this,  nevertheless,  can- 
not  go  on  to  infinity  ;  but  an  end  must  be  reached 
in  a  first  idea,  the  cause  of  which  may  be  the  model 
(patron)  or  original  in  which  is  contained,  formally 
and  actually,  all  the  reality  or  perfection  which  is 
found  simply  objectively,  or  by  representation,  in 
those  ideas. 

Consequently,  the  natural  light  makes  it  clearly  evi- 
dent to  me  that  ideas  exist  in  me  as  pictures  or  images 
which  may  easily  fall  short  of  the  perfection  of  the 
things  from  which  they  are  derived,  but  which  never 
can  contain  anything  greater  or  more  perfect.  The 
longer  and  more  carefully  I  consider  all  these  things 
the  more  clearly  and  distinctly  I  recognize  that  they 
are  true. 

But  what,  finally,  shall  I  conclude   from  all   this  ? 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDltATlONS.  13$ 

This :  namely,  that  if  the  reality  or  objective  perfec- 
tion of  any  one  of  my  ideas  is  such  that  I  know 
clearly  that  this  same  reality  or  perfection  is  not  in 
me,  neither  formally  nor  eminently,  and  that,  conse- 
quently, I  cannot  be  the  cause  of  it  myself,  it  follows 
thence,  necessarily,  that  I  am  not  alone  in  the  world, 
but  that  there  is  also  something  else  which  exists  and 
which  is  the  cause  of  this  idea  ;  whereas,  if  there  were 
not  found  in  me  such  an  idea,  I  should  have  no  argu- 
ment which  could  convince  me  and  make  certain  to 
me  the  existence  of  any  other  thing  than  myself,  for  I 
have  examined  them  all  carefully,  and  I  have  not  been 
able  to  find  any  other  up  to  the  present  time. 

But  among  all  these  ideas  which  are  within  me,  be- 
sides those  which  represent  myself  to  me,  in  respect 
to  which  there  cannot  be  here  any  difficulty,  there 
is  another  which  represents  a  God  to  me  ;  others, 
things  corporeal  and  inanimate  ;  others,  angels  ;  others, 
animals  ;  and  others,  finally,  which  represent  to  me 
men  like  myself.  But,  so  far  as  concerns  the  ideas 
which  represent  to  me  other  men,  or  animals,  or 
angels,  I  easily  conceive  that  they  may  be  formed  by 
the  mixture  and  composition  of  ideas  that  I  have  of 
things  corporeal  and  of  God,  even  although  besides 
myself  there  were  no  other  men  in  the  world,  nor  any 
animals,  nor  any  angels.  And  so  far  as  concerns  the 
ideas  of  corporeal  things,  I  do  not  recognize  in  them 
anything  so  great  or  so  excellent  as  might  not  possibly 
have  come  from  myself ;  for  when  I  consider  them 
more  closely,  and  examine  them  in  the  same  way  in 
which  I  examined  yesterday  the  idea  of  the  wax,  I  find 
that  there  is  but  a  very  little  in  them  that  I  can  con- 
ceive clearly  and  distinctly  ;  to  wit,  magnitude,  or, 
rather,  extension  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth  ;  figure, 


136  THE    PHILOSOPHY    Of    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

which  results  from  the  termination  of  this  extension  ; 
position,  which  bodies  differently  shaped  hold  sever- 
ally in  respect  to  each  other  ;  and  motion,  or  change  of 
this  position,  to  which  there  may  be  added  substance, 
duration,  and  number. 

As  for  other  things,  such  as  light,  colors,  sounds, 
odors,  flavors,  heat,  cold,  and  other  qualities  which 
fall  under  the  sense  of  touch,  they  occur  in  my  thought 
in  so  much  obscurity  and  confusion  that  I  do  not 
know  even  whether  they  are  true  or  false  ;  that  is  to 
say,  whether  the  ideas  which  I  conceive  of  these  quali- 
ties are  indeed  ideas  of  any  real  things,  or  whether 
they  represent  to  me  mere  chimeras,  which  cannot 
exist 

But  to  speak  truly,  it  is  not  necessary  that  I  attrib- 
ute to  them  any  other  author  than  myself ;  for  if 
they  be  false,  that  is  to  say,  if  they  represent  things 
which  are  not,  the  natural  light  makes  me  understand 
that  they  proceed  from  nothing  ;  that  is  to  say  that 
they  are  in  me  only  because  there  is  wanting  some- 
thing to  my  nature,  and  that  it  is  not  wholly  perfect ; 
and  if  these  ideas  be  true,  nevertheless,  since  they 
manifest  so  little  reality  to  me  that  I  cannot  distinguish 
the  thing  represented  from  non-being,  I  do  not  see 
why  I  may  not  be  the  author  of  them.  As  for  the 
clear  and  distinct  ideas  which  I  have  of  corporeal 
things,  there  are  some  of  them  which  it  seems  to 
me  I  might  have  drawn  from  the  idea  that  I  have 
of  myself  ;  for  instance,  those  I  have  of  substance, 
of  duration,  of  number,  and  of  other  similar  things. 
For  when  I  think  that  a  stone  is  a  substance,  or  a 
thing  which  is  capable  of  existing  of  itself,  and  that  I 
am  also  myself  a  substance  ;  although  I  conceive  in- 
deed that  I  am  a  thing  which  thinks  and  is  not  ex- 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  137 

tended,  and  that  the  stone,  on  the  contrary,  is  a  thing 
extended  and  which  does  not  think,  and  that  thus 
between  these  two  conceptions  there  is  a  notable  dif- 
ference, nevertheless  they  seem  to  agree  in  this  re- 
spect, that  they  both  represent  substances.  Likewise, 
when  I  think  that  I  am  now  existing,  and  remember 
besides  having  existed  before,  and  when  I  conceive 
many  diverse  thoughts,  the  number  of  which  I  know, 
I  then  acquire  the  ideas  within  me  of  duration  and 
number,  which,  thereafter,  I  can  transfer  to  all  other 
things  as  I  please.  As  for  the  other  qualities  of 
which  the  ideas  of  corporeal  things  are  composed,  to 
wit,  extension,  figure,  situation,  and  motion,  it  is  true 
that  they  are  not  formally  within  me,  since  I  am  only 
a  thing  which  thinks  ;  but  because  these  are  only 
certain  modes  of  substance,  and  I  myself  am  a  sub- 
stance, it  seems  as  if  they  might  be  contained  within 
me  eminently. 

There  remains,  therefore,  the  idea  of  God  only,  in 
which  it  must  be  considered  whether  there  be  any- 
thing which  could  not  have  come  from  myself. 

By  the  name  God  I  understand  a  substance  infinite, 
eternal,  immutable,  independent,  omniscient,  omnipo- 
tent, and  by  which  myself  and  all  other  things  which 
are  (if  it  be  true  that  any  of  these  exist)  have  been 
created  and  produced.  But  these  prerogatives  are  so 
great  and  so  exalted  that  the  more  attentively  I  con- 
sider them,  the  less  am  I  persuaded  that  the  idea 
which  I  have  of  them  can  derive  its  origin  from  my- 
self alone.  And  consequently  it  must  necessarily  be 
inferred  from  all  that  I  have  said  before  that  God 
exists  :  for  although  the  idea  of  substance  may  be  in 
me  from  the  fact  that  I  am  a  substance  ;  nevertheless 
I,  who  am  a  finite  being,  should  not  have  the  idea  of 


138  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

an  infinite  substance,  if  it  had  not  been  put  into  me 
by  some  substance  which  was  in  reality  infinite. 

And  I  ought  not  to  imagine  that  I  do  not  conceive 
the  infinite  by  a  true  idea,  but  solely  by  the  negation 
of  what  is  finite,  just  as  I  comprehend  rest  and  dark- 
ness by  the  negation  of  motion  and  of  light;  since  on 
the  contrary  I  see  clearly  that  there  is  more  reality  in 
infinite  substance  than  in  finite  substance,  and,  accord- 
ingly, that  I  have  in  me,  in  a  certain  sense,  rather  the 
notion  of  the  infinite  than  of  the  finite  ;  for  how  could 
it  be  that  I  should  know  that  I  doubt  and  that  I  desire, 
that  is  to  say,  that  anything  is  wanting  to  me,  and  that 
I  am  not  in  every  respect  perfect,  unless  I  had  in  me 
some  idea  of  an  existence  more  perfect  than  my  own, 
by  comparison  with  which  I  should  recognize  the  de- 
fects of  my  own  nature. 

And  it  cannot  be  said  that  perhaps  this  idea  is  ma- 
terially  false,  and  consequently  that  I  may  derive  it 
from  nothing,  that  is  to  say,  that  it  may  exist  in  me 
because  I  have  some  defect,  as  I  have  already  said  of 
the  ideas  of  heat  and  cold,  and  other  similar  things  ; 
for,  on  the  contrary,  this  idea  being  clear  and  very  dis. 
tinct,  and  containing  in  itself  more  objective  reality 
than  any  other,  there  is  none  which  is  in  itself  more 
true,  or  which  can  less  be  suspected  of  error  and 
falsity. 

This  idea,  I  say,  of  a  being  supremely  perfect  and 
infinite,  is  very  true  ;  for  although  one  may  feign  that 
such  a  being  does  not  exist,  one,  nevertheless,  cannot 
feign  that  the  idea  of  it  does  not  represent  anything 
real  to  me,  as  I  said  above  of  the  idea  of  cold.  It  is 
also  very  clear  and  very  distinct,  since  all  that  my 
mind  conceives  clearly  and  distinctly  of  reality  and 
truth,  and  which  contains  in  itself  any  perfection,  is 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  139 

contained  and  summed  up  in  this  idea.  And  this  still 
remains  true,  although  I  do  not  comprehend  the  in- 
finite, and  there  exists  in  God  an  infinitude  of  things 
which  I  cannot  comprehend,  nor  perhaps  even  attain 
to  any  conception  of  them  whatever,  because  it  is  of 
the  nature  of  the  infinite  that  I,  who  am  finite  and 
limited,  cannot  comprehend  it ;  and  it  is  enough  that 
I  well  understand  this,  and  that  I  judge  that  all  things 
that  I  conceive  clearly,  and  in  which  I  know  there 
is  any  perfection,  and  perhaps  also  an  infinitude  of 
other  things  of  which  I  am  ignorant,  are  in  God  form- 
ally or  eminently,  to  render  the  idea  which  I  have  of 
him  the  most  true,  the  most  clear,  and  the  most  dis- 
tinct of  all  that  are  in  my  mind.* 

But  it  may  be  also  that  I  am  something  more  than 
I  imagine,  and  that  all  the  perfections  which  I  attrib- 
ute to  the  nature  of  a  God  are  in  some  manner  in 
me  potentially,  though  they  have  not  yet  presented 
themselves  and  become  manifest  by  their  activity. 
Indeed,  I  am  aware  already  that  my  knowledge  in- 
creases and  grows  more  perfect  little  by  little,  and  I 
do  not  see  anything  to  prevent  its  increasing  thus 
more  and  more  even  to  infinity  ;  nor  even  why,  when 
it  has  thus  increased  and  grown  perfect,  I  should  not 
be  able  to  acquire  by  means  of  it  all  the  other  perfec- 
tions of  the  Divine  nature;  nor,  finally,  why  the  capacity 
which  I  have  for  the  acquisition  of  these  perfections — 
if  it  be  true  that  it  now  exists  within  me — should  not 
be  sufficient  to  produce  the  ideas  of  them. 

Nevertheless,  on  looking  a  little  more  closely  at  it, 

I  perceive  that  this  cannot  be  ;  for,  in  the  first  place, 

although  it  may  be  true  that  my  knowledge  acquires 

every  day  new  degrees  of  perfection,  and  that  there 

*  Cf.  Kuno  Fischer's  Descartes  (trans.),  p.  358. 


140  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  1 1 

may  be  in  my  nature  many  things  potentially  which 
are  not  yet  there  in  actuality,  nevertheless,  none  of 
these  endowments  pertain,  nor  do  they  in  any  degree 
approximate,  to  the  idea  which  I  h#ve  of  Divinity,  in 
whom  nothing  is  found  merely  in  potentiality,  but  all 
is  there  in  actuality  and  reality.  And,  indeed,  is  it 
not  an  infallible  and  very  evident  proof  of  imperfec- 
tion in  my  knowledge,  that  it  increases  little  by  little 
and  by  degrees  is  enlarged  ?  Moreover,  although  my 
knowledge  might  become  enlarged  more  and  more, 
still  I  do  not  fail  to  perceive  that  it  could  not  become 
actually  infinite,  since  it  will  never  arrive  at  so  high 
a  point  of  perfection  that  it  would  not  still  be  capable 
of  making  further  progress. 

But  I  conceive  God  as  actually  infinite  in  so  high 
a  degree  that  there  can  be  nothing  added  to  the  su- 
preme perfection  which  he  possesses.  And,  finally,  I 
very  well  understand  that  the  objective  existence  of 
an  idea  cannot  be  caused  by  a  being  which  exists 
barely  potentially,  but  solely  by  one  which  exists  form- 
ally or  actually.  And  certainly,  in  all  that  I  have 
just  said,  I  do  not  see  anything  which  may  not  be 
very  easily  comprehended  by  natural  light  on  the  part 
of  those  who  are  willing  to  think  upon  it  carefully  ; 
but,  when  I  relax  my  attention  a  little,  my  mind  be- 
comes obscured,  and,  as  it  were,  blinded  by  the  images 
of  sensible  objects,  so  that  it  does  not  readily  recall 
the  reason  why  the  idea  which  I  have  of  a  being  more 
perfect  than  my  own  must  necessarily  have  been  put 
in  me  by  a  being  who  is  in  reality  more  perfect. 

It  is  for  this  reason  that  I  wish  to  go  on  further  and 
to  consider  whether  I,  who  have  this  idea  of  God, 
could  exist  in  case  there  were  no  God.  And  I  ask, 
from  whom  have  I  my  existence  ?  Perhaps  from 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  141 

self,  or  from  my  parents,  or  from  other  causes  less 
perfect  than  Go.d  ;  for  nothing  can  be  imagined  more 
perfect  nor  even  equal  to  him.  But  if  I  were  inde- 
pendent of  every  other,  and  if  I  had  been  myself  the 
author  of  my  being,  I  should  not_have  any_doubtsf  I 
should  not  be  conscious  of  desires,  and,  in  fine,  there 
would  not  be  wanting  to  me  any  perfection ;  for  I 
should  have  endowed  myself  with  all  those  of  which 
I  have  in  myself  any  idea,  and  accordingly  I  should 
be  God.  And  I  ought  not  to  imagine  that  the  things 
which  are  wanting  to  me  are,  perhaps,  more  difficult  to 
acquire  than  those  which  I  already  possess  ;  for,  on 
the  contrary,  it  is  very  certain  that  it  had  been  much 
more  difficult  that  I — that  is  to  say,  a  thing  or  sub- 
stance which  thinks — should  proceed  from  nothing, 
than  that  I  should  acquire  light  and  knowledge  of 
many  things]  of  which  I  am  ignorant,  and  which  are 

only  accidents  of  this  substance 

And  although  I  might  suppose  that  I  had  always 
been  as  I  am  now,  I  cannot  in  that  case  escape  the 
force  of  this  reasoning  and  fail  to  perceive  that  it  is 
necessary  that  God  should  be  the  author  of  my  exist- 
ence. For  the  whole  duration  of  my  life  might  be 
divided  into  an  infinitude  of  parts,  each  one  of  them 
being  dependent  in  no  manner  on  the  rest ;  and  so, 
from  the  fact  that  I  have  existed  just  before,  it  does 
not  follow  that  I  must  now  exist,  except  as  some 
cause  at  this  moment  produces  me  and  creates  me, 
so  to  say,  anew  ;  that  is  to  say,  preserves  me.  In 
reality,  it  is  a  thing  very  clear  and  very  evident  to 
all  those  who  will  consider  with  attention  the  nature 
of  time,  that  a  substance,  for  its  preservation  during 
all  the  moments  of  its  duration,  requires  the  same 
power  and  the  same  act  which  would  be  necessary  to 


142  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  II 

produce  it  and  to  create  it  de  novo  if  it  did  not  al- 
ready exist  ;  so  that  it  is  something  which  the  natural 
light  makes  us  see  clearly,  that  conservation  and 
creation  differ  only  in  respect  to  our  thought,  and 
not  in  reality. 

I  have,  then,  at  this  point  only  to  ask  myself  and 
make  appeal  to  myself,  to  see  whether  I  have  in  me 
any  power  and  any  virtue,  by  means  of  which  I  could 
cause  that  I  who  now  exist  should  exist  a  moment 
afterward  ;  because,  since  I  am  nothing  but  a  thing 
which  thinks  (or  at  least,  since  up  to  this  time  nothing 
further  has  been  considered  than  precisely  this  part 
of  myself),  if  such  a  power  did  reside  in  me,  surely  I 
ought  at  least  to  conceive  it  and  to  have  knowledge  of 
it  ;  but  I  am  not_awareof  any  such  thing  in  me,  and 
from  that  I  know  evidently  that  I  depend  upon  some 
being  other  than  myself. 

But  it  may  be  that  this  being  on  whom  I  depend 
is  not  God,  and  that  I  was  produced  either  by  my 
parents  or  by  some  other  causes  less  perfect  than  he 
is.  But  this  cannot  be  true  ;  for,  as  I  have  already 
said,  it  is  a  thing  very  evident  that  there  must  be  at 
least  as  much  reality  in  the  cause  as  in  its  effect ;  and 
consequently,  since  I  am  a  thing  which  thinks  and  I 
have  in  me  some  idea  of  a  God,  whatever  may  be  the 
ultimate  cause  of  my  being,  it  must  necessarily  be 
admitted  that  it  is  also  a  thing  which  thinks,  and  that 
it  has  in  itself  the  idea  of  all  the  perfections  which  I 
attribute  to  God.  Then  must  the  inquiry  be  renewed, 
whether  this  cause  derives  its  origin  and  its  existence 
from  itself,  or  from  something  else.  Because,  if  it 
derive  it  from  itself,  it  follows,  from  reasons  which  I 
have  already  advanced,  that  this  cause  is  God  ;  since, 
having  the  power  to  be  and  to  exist  of  itself,  it  must  have 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  143 

also  without  doubt  the  power  to  possess  in  actuality 
all  the  perfections  of  which  it  has  in  itself  the  ideas, 
that  is  to  say,  all  those  which  I  conceive  to  be  in  God. 
But  if  it  derive  its  existence  from  some  other  cause 
than  itself,  it  must  be  inquired  anew,  for  the  same 
reason,  of  this  second  cause,  whether  it  exists  of  itself 
or  through  another,  until,  step  by  step,  at  last  an  ulti- 
mate cause  is  reached,  which  will  prove  to  be  God. 
And  it  is  very  manifest  that  in  this  there  can  be  no 
infinite  regression,  seeing  that  the  question  here  is 
not  so  much  as  to  the  cause  which  at  some  other  time 
brought  me  into  being,  as  concerning  that  which  at 
the  present  moment  keeps  jue-in_being. 

It  cannot  be  supposed,  further,  that  possibly  many 
causes  together  have  concurred  in  producing  me,  and 
that  from  one  I  have  received  the  idea  of  one  of  the 
perfections  which  I  attribute  to  God,  from  another  the 
idea  of  some  other,  consequently  that  all  these  per- 
fections are  to  be  found,  indeed,  somewhere  in  the  uni- 
verse, but  are  not  to  be  met  with  united  and  collected 
in  one  sole  being,  which  is  God  ;  because,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  unity,  the  simplicity,  or  the  inseparability  of 
all  things  which  are  in  God  is  one  of  the  principal 
perfections  which  I  conceive  to  exist  in  him  ;  and 
surely  the  idea  of  this  unity  of  all  the  perfections  of 
God  could  not  have  been  put  into  me  by  any  cause 
from  which  I  did  not  also  receive  the  ideas  of  all  the 
other  perfections  ;  because  it  could  not  have  brought  it 
about  that  I  should  comprehend  all  _these  joined  to- 
gether and  inseparable,  without  having  caused,  conse- 
quently, at  the  same  time,  that  I  should  know  what 
they  were,  and  that  I  should  become  acquainted  with 
all  of  them  in  some  degree. 

Finally,  so  far  as  concerns  my  parents,  to  whom  it 


144  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

appears  that  I  owe  my  birth,  although  all  that  I  ever 
could  believe  of  them  were  true,  it  nevertheless  could 
not  be  true  that  it  is  they  who  keep  me  in  existence, 
nor  even  who  made  me  and  brought  me  forth  in  so  far 
as  I  am  a  thing  which  thinks  ;  there  being  no  relation 
between  the  corporeal  action  by  which  I  am  accus- 
tomed to  believe  that  they  engendered  me,  and  the 
production  of  such  a  substance  ;  but  what  they  at  the 
most  contributed  to  my  birth  is  that  they  put  certain 
dispositions  into  this  matter  in  which  I  have  judged 
up  to  this  time  that  I — that  is  to  say,  my  mind,  which 
alone  I  now  take  to  be  myself — is  inclosed  ;  and  ac- 
cordingly there  cannot  be  here  any  difficulty  in  regard 
to  them,  but  it  must  necessarily  be  concluded,  from 
the  fact  alone  that  I  exist,  and  that  the  idea  of  a  being 
supremely  perfect — that  is  to  say,  of  God — is  in  me, 
the  existence  of  God  is  very  evidently  demonstrated.* 
There  remains  only  to  inquire  how  I  have  come  by 
this  idea,  for  I  did  not  receive  it  through  the  senses, 
and  it  never  presented  itself  contrary  to  my  expecta- 
tions, as  the  idea  of  sensible  things  commonly  do,  when 
these  things  present  themselves,  or  seem  to  do  so,  to 
the  exterior  organs  of  sense  ;  it  is  not,  moreover,  a 

*  For  other  statements  of  the  argument  for  the  being  of  God, 
see  Discours  de  la  Mtthode,  pt.  IV,  (Euvres,  t.  i,  pp.  159-163  ; 
Veitch's  trans.,  pp.  34-37  ;  Principcs,  i,  18-22,  (Euvres,  t.  iii,  pp. 
74-78  ;  Veitch's  trans.,  pp.  201-203  ',  Obj.  et  Rep.,  Props.  I-III, 
(Euvres,  t.  i,  pp.  460-462  ;  Veitch's  trans. ,  App.,  pp.  271  272. 

The  above  form  of  the  argument,  which  is  styled  by  Kuno 
Fischer  (Descartes,  trans.,  p.  349)  the  anthropological  proof,  and 
of  which  he  remarks,  "It  is  the  real  Cartesian  proof  of  the 
existence  of  God,"  should  be  compared  with  the  strictly  ontological 
proof  in  the  Fifth  Meditation.  The  former  demonstration  is  a 
posteriori,  its  principle  being  the  law  of  causality  ;  the  latter  is  a 
priori,  and  finds  the  existence  in  the  idea  of  God.  See  below. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  145 

pure  product  or  fiction  of  my  mind,  for  it  is  not  in  my 
power  to  diminish  or  to  add  to  it ;  and,  consequently, 
there  remains  nothing  else  to  be  said  but  that  this 
idea  was  born  and  produced  with  me  at  the  time  when 
I  was  created,  just  as  was  the  idea  of  myself.  And, 
indeed,  it  should  not  be  thought  strange  that  God,  in 
creating  me,  should  have  put  into  me  this  idea  to  be, 
as  it  were,  the  mark  of  the  workman  impressed  upon 
his  work  ;  and  moreover  it  is  not  necessary  that  this 
mark  should  be  anything  different  from  this  work  it- 
self ;  but  from  the  simple  fact  that  God  created  me  it 
is  very  credible  that  he  made  me  in  some  manner  in 
his  own  image  and  likeness  ;  and  that  I  conceive  this 
resemblance,  in  which  the  idea  of  God  is  found  con- 
tained, by  the  same  faculty  by  which  I  conceive  my- 
self, that  is  to  say  that,  when  I  reflect  upon  myself, 
not  only  do  I  take  note  that  I  am  a  thing  imperfect, 
incomplete,  and  dependent  upon  another,  which  strives 
and  aspires,  without  ceasing,  toward  something  greater 
and  better  than  I  am,  but  I  recognize  also,  at  the  same 
time,  that  he  upon  whom  I  depend  possesses  in  him- 
self all  these  great  things  to  which  I  aspire,  and  of 
which  I  find  in  myself  the  ideas,  not  indefinitely  and 
merely  potentially,  but  that  he  has  them  in  reality, 
actually  and  infinitely,  and,  therefore,  that  he  is  God. 
And  the  entire  force  of  the  argument  which  I  have 
here  employed  to  prove  the  existence  of  God  consists 
in  this,  that  I  recognize  the  impossibility  that  my  nature 
should  be  what  it  is — that  is  to  say,  that  I  should  have 
in  me  the  idea  of  a  God,  if  God  did  not  in  truth  exist ; 
that  same  God,  I  say,  of  whom  there  is  in  me  the  idea, 
that  is  to  say,  who  possesses  all  these  high  perfections 
of  which  our  mind  can  have  even  any  faint  idea  with- 
out being  able,  however,  to  comprehend  them,  who  is 


146  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

subject  to  no  defects,  and  who  has  none  of  all  those 
things  which  imply  imperfection.  Whence  it  is  clear 
enough  that  he  cannot  be  a  deceiver,  since  the  natural 
light  teaches  us  that  deception  necessarily  depends  on 
some  defect. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  147 


FOURTH   MEDITATION. 

Of  the  true  and  the  false. 

....  ALREADY  it  seems  to  me  that  I  am  finding  a 
path  which  will  conduct  us  from  the  contemplation  of 
this  true  God  in  whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  knowl- 
edge and  wisdom  to  the  knowledge  of  the  rest  of  the 
universe.  For,  in  the  first  place,  I  perceive  that  it  is 
impossible  for  him  ever  to  deceive  me,  since  in  all 
fraud  and  deceit  there  exists  some  sort  of  imperfec- 
tion ;  and  although  the  ability  to  deceive  may  be  a 
mark  of  subtlety  or  of  power,  nevertheless  the  wish  to 
deceive  shows  unmistakable  weakness  or  malice  ;  and, 
therefore,  it  cannot  be  found  in  God.  In  the  next 
place,  I  know  by  my  own  experience  that  there  exists 
in  me  a  certain  faculty  of  judging,  or  of  discriminating 
the  true  from  the  false,  which  without  doubt  I  have 
received  from  God,  as  well  as  all  the  rest  of  the  things 
which  are  in  me  and  which  I  possess  ;  and  since  it  is 
impossible  that  he  should  wish  to  deceive  me,  it  is 
also  certain  that  he  [has  not  bestowed  upon  me  such 
a  faculty  that  I  could  ever  fall  into  error  so  long  as  I 
should  use  it  rightly.  There  would  remain  no  doubt 
on  this  point,  except  that,  apparently,  this  conse- 
quence might  follow,  that  in  this  case  I  could  never 
deceive  myself ;  because,  if  all  that  is  in  me  comes 
from  God,  and  if  he  has  not  put  in  me  any  faculty  of 
error,  it  would  appear  that  I  should  never  make  a  mis- 
take. And,  indeed,  it  is  true  that,  whenever  I  look 


148  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

upon  myself  solely  as  coming  from  God,  and  turn  my- 
self wholly  toward  him,  I  do  not  discover  in  myself 
any  cause  of  error  or  untruth  ;  but  immediately  after- 
ward, on  returning  to  myself,  experience  makes  me 
aware  that  I  am,  nevertheless,  liable  to  an  infinitude  of 
errors,  on  seeking  the  cause  of  which  I  observe  that 
there  is  present  to  my  thought  not  only  a  real  and 
positive  idea  of  God,  or,  rather,  of  a  being  supremely 
perfect ;  but  also,  so  to  speak,  a  certain  negative  idea 
of  non-entity,  that  is  to  say,  of  that  which  is  infinitely 
removed  from  every  sort  of  perfection  ;  and  that  I 
am,  as  it  were,  a  mean  between  God  and  non-entity, 
that  is  to  say,  placed  in  some  sort  betwixt  the  Su- 
preme Being  and  the  non-existent,  so  that  in  truth 
there  can  be  found  in  me  nothing  which  could  lead 
me  into  error,  in  so  far  as  a  Supreme  Being  has  made 
me  ;  but  if  I  consider  myself  as  participating  in  some 
sort  in  non-entity  or  non-being,  that  is  to  say  in  so  far 
as  I  am  not  myself  the  Supreme  Being,  and  that  many 
things  are  wanting  to  me,  I  find  myself  exposed  to 
an  infinitude  of  defects  ;  so  that  I  ought  not  to  be 
surprised  if  I  fall  into  mistakes.  And  thus  I  perceive 
that  error,  in  so  far  as  it  is  such,  is  nothing  real  which 
depends  upon  God,  but  is  solely  a  defect ;  and  there- 
fore, in  order  to  err,  I  do  not  need  a  faculty  which 
should  be  given  me  by  God  particularly  for  this  end  ; 
but  my  deceiving  myself  arises  from  the  fact  that  the 
power  which  God  has  given  me  to  discriminate  the 
false  does  not  exist  in  me  in  an  infinite  degree.  Nev- 
ertheless I  am  not  yet  quite  satisfied,  for  error  is  not 
a  pure  negation,  that  is  to  say,  it  is  not  the  simple 
absence  or  defect  of  some  perfection  which  does  not 
belong  to  me,  but  it  is  a  privation  of  some  knowledge 
which  it  seems  as  if  I  ought  to  have.  But  on  consid- 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  149 

ering  the  nature  of  God,  it  does  not  seem  possible 
that  he  should  have  put  into  me  any  faculty  which  was 
not  perfect  of  its  kind,  that  is  to  say,  which  should 
want  any  perfection  which  belongs  to  it ;  for,  if  it  be 
true  that  the  more  expert  the  artisan,  the  more  per- 
fect and  complete  are  the  works  which  come  from  his 
hands,  what  thing  can  have  been  produced  by  the 
Sovereign  Creator  of  the  universe  which  was  not  per- 
fect and  entirely  finished  in  all  its  parts  ?  And,  surely, 
there  is  no  doubt  at  all  but  that  God  might  have 
created  me  such  that  I  could  never  have  made  mis- 
takes ;  it  is  certain,  also,  that  he  wills  always  that 
which  is  the  best ;  is  it,  then,  better  that  I  should  be 
able  to  deceive  myself  than  that  I  should  not  have  the 
power  to  do  so  ?  On  considering  this  point  attentively 
it  occurs  to  my  mind  at  once  that  I  ought  not  to  be 
surprised  if  I  am  not  capable  of  understanding  why 
God  does  what  he  does,  and  that  I  ought  not  on  that 
account  to  doubt  of  his  existence,  since,  perhaps,  I  see 
by  experience  many  other  things  which  exist,  although 
I  cannot  understand  for  what  reason  or  how  God  made 
them;  for  knowing  already  that  my  nature  is  extremely 
weak  and  limited,  and  that  the  nature  of  God,  on  the 
contrary,  is  boundless,  incomprehensible,  and  infinite, 
I  can  easily  see  that  there  is  an  infinitude  of  things 
within  his  power  the  causes  of  which  tie  beyond  the 
range  of  my  mind  ;  and  this  reason  alone  is  sufficient 
to  persuade  me  that  all  that  kind  of  causes,  which  is 
commonly  derived  from  the  end,  is  of  no  use  in  things 
physical  or  natural ;  for  it  does  not  seem  to  me  that  I 
can  without  temerity  pry  into  and  try  to  discover  the 
impenetrable  purposes  of  God.* 

*  We  shall  not,  also,  stop  to  inquire  after  the  ends  which  God 
proposed  to  himself  in  creating  the  world,  and  we  entirely  exclude 


150  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  II 

Moreover  it  further  occurs  to  my  mind  that  a  single 
creature  should  not  be  considered  separately,  when 
inquiry  is  made  whether  the  works  of  God  are  perfect, 
but  generally  all  creatures  taken  together  ;  because 
the  very  same  thing  which  might  with  some  sort  of 
reason  seem  very  imperfect,  if  it  were  the  only  thing 
in  existence,  might  not  fail  of  being  very  perfect, 
when  considered  as  forming  a  part  of  the  whole  uni- 
verse *  ;  and  although,  since  I  have  formed  the  plan 
of  doubting  everything,  I  might  not  certainly  know 
aught  beyond  my  own  existence  and  that  of  God, 
nevertheless  also,  since  I  have  become  aware  of  the 
infinite  power  of  God,  I  cannot  deny  that  he  has  pro- 
duced many  other  things,  consequently  that  I  exist 
and  am  placed  in  the  world  as  forming  a  part  of  the 
universal  whole  of  being. 

In  the  next  place,  on  looking  at  myself  more  closely, 
and  considering  what  my  errors  are,  which  of  them- 
selves bear  witness  that  there  is  imperfection  in  me,  I 
find  that  they  depend  on  the  concurrence  of  two 
causes,  to  wit,  the  faculty  of  knowing  which  is  in  me 

from  our  philosophy  the  investigation  of  final  causes ;  for  we 
should  not  be  so  arrogant  as  to  presume  that  God  desired  to  impart 
to  us  his  plans ;  but,  while  regarding  him  as  the  author  of  all 
things,  we  shall  attempt  simply  to  discover,  through  the  faculty  of 
reasoning  he  has  put  within  us,  how  the  things  which  we  perceive 
by  the  medium  of  our  senses  might  have  been  produced  ;  and  we 
shall  be  warranted,  by  those  of  his  attributes  of  which  he  has  willed 
that  we  have  some  knowledge,  that  what  we  shall  have  once  per- 
ceived clearly  and  distinctly  to  belong  to  the  nature  of  these  things 
has  the  perfection  of  being  true.  Principes,  I,  28  ((Euvres,  t.  iii, 
p.  81). 

*This  thought  was  elaborated  by  Leibnitz  in  his  Thtodich 
and  forms  the  principal  support  of  his  optimistic  theory. — Cf, 
Butler's  Analogy,  pt.  i,  ch.  vii. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  151 

and  the  faculty  of  choosing,  or  rather  of  my  free  will, 
that  is  to  say,  upon  my  understanding  and  my  will 
together.  For  by  the  understanding  alone  I  do  not 
affirm  nor  deny  anything,  but  I  simply  conceive  the 
ideas  of  things,  which  I  can  affirm  or  deny.  But 
when  considering  the  matter  thus  strictly,  one  may 
say  that  he  does  not  find  in  himself  any  error,  provided 
the  term  error  is  taken  in  its  proper  signification. 

And  although  there  may  be  an  infinity  of  things  in 
the  world  of  which  I  have  no  idea  in  my  understand- 
ing, it  cannot  be  said  on  that  account  that  it  is  de- 
prived of  these  ideas,  as  of  something  properly  be- 
longing to  its  nature,  but  simply  that  it  does  not  have 
them  ;  because,  in  truth,  there  is  no  reason  by  which 
it  could  be  shown  that  God  ought  to  have  given  me  a 
greater  and  more  ample  faculty  of  knowing  than  that 
which  he  has  given  me  ;  and  no  matter  how  skillful 
and  wise  the  workman  I  represent  to  myself,  I  am 
not  bound  for  that  reason  to  think  that  he  ought  to 
put  into  each  one  of  his  works  all  those  perfections 
that  he  may  put  into  some  of  them.  Also,  I  cannot 
complain  that  God  did  not  give  me  a  free  will,  or  a 
will  ample  and  perfect  enough,  since  in  reality  I  find 
it  so  ample  and  so  far-reaching  that  it  is  not  inclosed 
within  any  bounds.  And  what  appears  to  me  here 
quite  remarkable  is  that  of  all  other  things  which 
exist  within  me  there  is  none  so  perfect  and  so  great 
that  I  am  not  well  aware  that  it  might  be  still  greater 
and  more  perfect.  For,  for  example,  if  I  consider 
the  faculty  of  conceiving  which  is  in  me,  I  find  that 
it  has  a  very  narrow  range  and  is  greatly  limited,  and 
at  the  same  time  I  represent  to  myself  the  idea  of  an- 
other faculty  much  more  ample  and  even  infinite  ; 
and  from  the  simple  fact  that  I  can  represent  to  my- 


l£2  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

self  the  idea  of  it,  I  easily  perceive  that  it  belongs  to 
the  nature  of  God.  In  the  same  way,  if  I  examine 
memory  or  imagination,  or  whatever  other  faculty 
there  may  be  in  me,  I  do  not  find  any  that  is  not  very 
small  and  limited,  and  which  in  God  is  not  immense 
and  infinite. 

It  is  will  alone,  or  freedom  of  choice,  that  I  find  to 
be  in  me  so  great  that  I  do  not  conceive  the  idea  of 
anything  else  greater  or  of  wider  range  ;  so  that  it  is 
this  chiefly  which  makes  me  know  that  I  bear  the  image 
and  likeness  of  God.  Because,  although  it  may  be  in- 
comparably greater  in  God  than  in  me,  whether  on 
account  of  the  knowledge  and  the  power  which  are 
joined  with  it  and  which  make  it  more  steadfast  and 
efficient,  or  on  account  of  its  object,  inasmuch  as  it 
directs  itself  and  extends  itself  to  an  infinitely  greater 
number  of  things,  nevertheless  it  does  not  seem  to  me 
to  be  any  greater,  if  I  consider  it  formally  and  strictly 
in  itself.  For  it  consists  simply  in  this,  that  we  are 
able  to  do  a  thing  or  not  to  do  it,  that  is  to  say,  to 
affirm  or  deny,  to  pursue  or  avoid  the  same  thing,  or 
rather  it  consists  solely  in  this,  that  in  affirming  or 
denying,  in  pursuing  or  avoiding  the  things  which 
understanding  presents  to  us,  we  act  in  such  a  manner 
that  we  do  not  feel  ourselves  constrained  by  any  ex- 
ternal force.  For,  that  I  may  be  free,  it  is  not  neces- 
sary that  I  should  be  indifferent  in  .choosing  one  or 
the  other  of  two  contrary  things  ;  but  rather,  the  more 
I  incline  toward  one,  whether  it  be  that  I  clearly  know 
that  the  good  and  the  true  meet  in  it,  or  that  God 
thus  disposes  my  thought  within  me,  by  so  much  the 
more  freely  do  I  choose  and  embrace  it ;  and  surely 
divine  grace  and  natural  knowledge,  far  from  diminish- 
ing my  liberty,  the  rather  increase  and  strengthen  it ; 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  153 

so  that  this  indifference  which  I  feel  when  I  am  not 
carried  toward  one  side  rather  than  toward  another 
by  the  weight  of  any  reason,  is  the  lowest  degree  of 
liberty,  and  makes  apparent  rather  a  defect  in  knowl- 
edge than  a  perfection  in  will  ;  for  if  I  always  knew 
clearly  the  true  and  the  good,  I  should  never  be  at 
any  loss  to  decide  what  judgment  and  what  choice  I 
ought  to  make  ;  and  thus  I  should  be  entirely  free 
without  ever  being  indifferent. 

From  all  this  I  perceive  that  neither  the  power  of 
willing,  which  I  have  received  from  God,  is  of  itself 
the  cause  of  my  errors,  for  it  is  very  ample  and  very 
perfect  in  its  kind,  nor  also  the  power  of  understand- 
ing or  conceiving  ;  for,  not  conceiving  anything  except 
by  means  of  that  power  which  God  has  given  me  for 
conceiving,  without  doubt,  all  that  I  conceive,  I  con- 
ceive as  it  should  be,  and  it  is  not  possible  that  in  that  I 
should  deceive  myself.  Whence,  then,  arise  my  errors  ? 
It  is  from  this  circumstance  alone,  that  the  will  being 
much  more  ample  and  far-reaching  than  the  under- 
standing, I  do  not  keep  it  within  the  same  limits,  but  I 
extend  it  also  to  things  which  I  do  not  understand ; 
to  which  being  of  itself  indifferent,  it  very  easily  goes 
astray,  and  chooses  the  false  in  place  of  the  true,  and 
the  evil  in  place  of  the  good  ;  and  that  is  what  causes 
me  to  err  and  to  sin.* 

For  example,  upon  examining  during  these  days 
just  gone  by  whether  anything  truly  existed  in  the 
world,  and  becoming  aware  that,  from  the  simple  fact 
that  I  had  raised  that  question,  it  followed  very  evi- 
dently that  I  myself  existed,  I  could  not  avoid  the 
conclusion  that  what  I  conceived  so  clearly  was  true; 

*Cf.  Princ.,  Pt.  I,  31-44.     See  Veitch,  trans,  pp.  207-2x2. 


154  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

not  that  I  found  myself  forced  to  it  by  any  external 
cause,  but  solely  because  upon  a  great  clearness  in  my 
understanding  *  there  followed  a  strong  inclination  in 
my  will  ;  and  I  was  inclined  the  more  freely  to  believe 
this,  in  proportion  as  I  felt  the  less  indifference.  On 
the  contrary,  now  I  do  not  know  solely  that  I  exist,  in 
so  far  as  I  am  something  which  thinks ;  but  there  is 
present  also  to  my  mind  a  certain  idea  of  the  corpo- 
real nature  ;  which  makes  me  question  whether  this 
nature  which  thinks,  which  is  within  me,  or  rather 
which  I  myself  am,  is  different  from  this  corporeal  na- 
ture, or  whether  both  are  not  one  and  the  same  ;  and 
I  assume  here  that  I  know  as  yet  of  no  reason  to  in- 
cline me  to  the  one  view  rather  than  to  the  other  : 
whence  it  follows  that  I  am  entirely  indifferent  as  re- 
gards a  denial  or  an  affirmation,  or,  indeed,  as  to 
whether  I  abstain  from  any  judgment  in  the  matter. 

*  Cf.  Hobbes'  objection  and  Descartes'  reply  ((Euvres,  t.  i,  pp. 
496-498). 

Objection. — This  way  of  speaking,  a  great  clearness  in  the  un- 
derstanding, is  metaphorical,  and  accordingly  is  not  fit  to  intro- 
duce into  an  argument :  now  he  who  has  no  doubt  pretends  to 
have  such  a  clearness,  and  his  will  has  no  less  inclination  to  af- 
firm that  of  which  he  has  no  doubt  than  has  the  man  who  pos- 
sesses perfect  knowledge.  This  clearness,  then,  may  very  well  be 
the  cause  why  a  man  shall  hold  and  obstinately  defend  any  opin- 
ion, but  it  can  never  make  him  know  with  certainty  that  it  is 
true. — [Cf.  Mahaffy's  remarks,  Descartes,  p.  96.] 

Reply. — It  matters  little  whether  this  way  of  speaking  be  fit  or 
not  to  introduce  into  an  argument,  provided  it  be  fit  to  express 
clearly  our  thought,  as  it  does.  For  there  is  nobody  who  does  not 
know  that  by  this  word,  a  clearness  in  the  understanding,  is  meant 
a  clearness  or  perspicuity  of  knowledge  that  not  everyone  who 
thinks  possesses  ;  but  that  does  not  prevent  its  being  altogether 
different  from  an  obstinate  opinion  conceived  without  evident  per- 
ception. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  155 

And  this  indifference  extends  not  merely  to  things 
concerning  which  the  understanding  has  no  knowl- 
edge, but  in  general  also  to  all  things  which  it  does 
not  discover  with  perfect  clearness  at  the  moment 
when  the  will  deliberates  upon  them  ;  for,  however 
probable  may  be  the  conjectures  which  incline  me  to 
pass  a  judgment,  the  simple  recognition  of  the  fact 
that  they  are  only  conjectures,  and  not  certain  and 
indubitable  reasons,  is  enough  to  afford  me  occasion 
to  pass  an  opposite  judgment,  and  this  I  have  had  suf- 
ficient experience  of  during  these  days  just  passed, 
when  I  have  set  down  as  false  all  that  I  have  hitherto 
held  to  be  quite  true,  simply  because  I  have  observed 
that  some  doubt  could  be  entertained  in  regard  to  it. 

Now  if  I  abstain  from  passing  judgment  upon  any- 
thing, so  long  as  I  do  not  conceive  it  with  sufficient 
clearness  and  distinctness,  it  is  manifest  that  I  do 
well,  and  that  I  am  not  deceived  ;  but  if  I  allow  my- 
self to  deny  or  affirm,  then  I  do  not  use  my  free  will 
as  I  ought  ;  and  if  I  affirm  what  is  not  true,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  I  deceive  myself ;  and  likewise,  although  I 
judge  according  to  truth,  that  happens  only  by  chance, 
and  I  still  go  wrong  and  make  bad  use  of  my  free- 
dom ;  for  the  natural  light  teaches  us  that  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  understanding  ought  always  to  precede 
the  determination  of  the  will.*  And  it  is  in  this  bad 
use  of  freedom  that  the  privation  is  found  which 
forms  the  essence  of  error. 

Privation,  I  say,  is  found  in  the  act  so  far  as  it  pro- 
ceeds from  myself,  but  it  is  not  found  in  the  faculties 
which  I  have  received  from  God,  nor  even  in  the  act 
in  so  far  as  it  depends  upon  him.  For  certainly  1  have 

*Cf.  Abelard's  dictum  :  Non  credendum,  nisi  prius  intellectum. 
Introd.  ii,  3  Shedd's  His!,  of  Chr.  Doct.,  vol.  i,  p.  186. 


156  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  It 

no  ground  for  complaint  in  that  God  has  not  given 
me  an  intelligence  more  ample,  or  a  natural  light 
more  perfect,  than  that  which  he  has  bestowed  upon 
me,  since  it  is  of  the  nature  of  a  finite  understanding 
not  to  comprehend  many  things,  and  of  the  nature  of 
a  created  understanding  to  be  finite  ;  but  I  have  every 
reason  to  render  thanks  to  him  in  that,  while  he  owed 
nothing  whatever,  he  has  yet  given  me  all  the  few  per- 
fections there  are  in  me  ;  and  I  am  far  from  enter- 
taining sentiments  so  unjust  as  to  imagine  that  he  has 
deprived  me  of,  or  unjustly  held  back  from  me,  other 
perfections  with  which  he  has  not  endowed  me. 

I  have  likewise  no  ground  for  complaint  in  that  he 
has  given  me  a  will  more  ample  in  its  range  than  my 
understanding,  since  the  will  consisting  only  in  a 
single  thing,  and,  as  it  were,  in  something  indivisible, 
it  appears  that  its  nature  is  such  that  nothing  could 
be  taken  from  it  without  destroying  it  ;  and  surely  the 
more  range  it  has,  the  more  cause  have  I  to  thank  the 
goodness  of  him  who  gave  it  me. 

And  finally,  I  ought  not  to  complain  on  the  ground 
that  God  concurs  with  me  in  producing  the  acts  of 
this  will,  that  is  to  say,  judgments  in  which  I  deceive 
myself,  because  these  acts  are  entirely  true  and  abso- 
lutely good,  in  so  far  as  they  depend  upon  God,  and 
there  is  in  some  sort  more  perfection  in  my  nature,  in 
that  I  am  able  to  perform  them,  than  if  I  were  not 
able  to  do  so.  As  for  privation,  in  which  alone  con- 
sists the  formal  cause  of  error  and  of  sin,  that  does 
not  require  any  concurrence  of  God,  because  it  is  not 
a  thing  or  a  being,  and  if  it  be  referred  to  God  as  its 
cause,  it  should  not  be  called  privation,  but  simply 
negation,  according  to  the  signification  given  to  these 
terms  in  the  school.  For  in  reality  it  is  no  imperfec- 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  157 

tion  in  God  that  he  has  given  me  the  liberty  of  pass- 
ing judgment,  or  of  not  doing  so,  on  certain  things 
concerning  which  he  has  not  put  a  clear  and  dis- 
tinct knowledge  in  my  understanding  ;  but,  without 
doubt,  it  is  in  me  an  imperfection  that  I  do  not  use 
well  this  liberty,  and  that  I  rashly  give  my  judgment 
upon  things  which  I  conceive  only  obscurely  and 
confusedly. 

I  see,  nevertheless,  that  it  would  be  easy  for  God  to 
cause  that  I  never  should  fall  into  error,  although  I 
still  remained  free  and  limited  in  my  knowledge  : 
thus,  if  he  had  given  to  my  understanding  a  clear  and 
distinct  knowledge  of  all  the  things  on  which  I  should 
ever  have  to  deliberate,  or,  if  you  please,  if  he  had 
engraved  on  my  memory,  so  deeply  that  I  never  could 
forget  it,  the  resolution  never  to  judge  of  anything 
without  clearly  and  distinctly  conceiving  it.  And, 
indeed,  I  admit  that,  in  so  far  as  I  consider  myself 
alone,  as  if  there  were  no  other  than  myself  in  the 
world,  I  should  have  been  much  more  perfect  than  I 
am,  if  God  had  so  created  me  that  I  should  never 
have  erred  ;  but  I  cannot,  for  that,  deny  that  it  would 
be  in  some  sort  a  greater  perfection  in  the  universe 
if  some  of  its  parts  should  not  be  exempt  from  defect, 
while  others  were,  than  if  they  all  should  be  alike.* 
And  I  have  no  right  to  complain  that  God,  when  he 
put  me  into  the  world,  did  not  choose  to  put  me  into 
the  rank  of  things  most  noble  and  most  perfect  ; 
rather,  I  have  reason  to  be  content  with  this,  that  if 
he  has  not  granted  to  me  the  perfection  of  not  falling 
into  error,  by  the  first  means,  which  I  have  mentioned 
above,  which  depends  on  a  clear  and  certain  knowledge 
of  all  the  things  on  which  I  may  deliberate,  he  has  at 
*  See  above,  p.  150. 


158  THE    PHILOSOPHY   OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

least  left  in  my  power  the  other  means,  which  is  firmly 
to  keep  the  resolution  never  to  give  my  judgment  on 
things  the  truth  concerning  which  is  not  clearly  known 
to  me  ;  for,  although  I  experience  in  myself  this  weak- 
ness of  not  being  able  to  hold  my  mind  constantly  to 
one  thought,  I  am,  nevertheless,  able,  by  attentive  and 
often  repeated  meditation,  to  impress  it  so  strongly  on 
my  memory  that  I  never  fail  to  recollect  it  whenever 
I  have  need  of  it,  and  thus  to  acquire  the  habit  of 
not  making  mistakes  ;  and,  inasmuch  as  in  this  con- 
sists  the  greatest  and  principal  perfection  of  man,  I 
consider  that  I  have  gained  not  a  little  to-day,  in  hav- 
ing discovered  the  cause  of  error  and  falsity. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  159 


FIFTH  MEDITATION. 

Of  the  essence  of  material  things  ;  and,  again,  of  the 
existence  of  God. 

MANY  other  things  remain  to  me  to  be  considered 
in  regard  to  the  attributes  of  God,  and  in  regard  to  my 
own  nature,  that  is  to  say,  that  of  my  mind  ;  but  per- 
haps I  will  renew  the  inquiry  at  another  time.  At 
present,  having  observed  what  it  is  necessary  to  do  or 
to  avoid,  in  order  to  arrive  at  a  knowledge  of  truth, 
what  I  have  principally  to  do  is  to  attempt  to  advance 
and  deliver  myself  of  all  the  doubts  into  which  I  have 
fallen  in  these  past  days,  and  to  see  if  I  cannot  know 
something  certain  in  regard  to  material  things.  But 
before  I  inquire  whether  there  are  such  things  exist- 
ing without  me,  I  ought  to  consider  the  ideas  of  them, 
in  so  far  as  they  exist  in  my  thought,  and  to  see  what 
are  distinct  and  what  are  confused.  In  the  first  place, 
I  distinctly  imagine  that  quantity  which  philosophers 
call  continuous  quantity,  or  rather  the  extension  in 
length,  breadth,  and  thickness  which  is  in  this  quan- 
tity, or  rather  in  the  thing  to  which  they  attribute  it. 

Moreover,  I  can  enumerate  in  it  many  different 
parts,  and  attribute  to  each  one  of  these  parts  all  sorts 
of  magnitudes,  figures,  positions,  and  movements  ;  and 
finally,  I  can  assign  to  each  of  these  movements  all 
sorts  of  duration.  And  I  recognize  these  things  with 
distinctness  not  only  when  I  consider  them  thus  in 
general  ;  but  also,  for  the  little  time  that  I  have  given 
my  attention  to  it,  I  have  come  to  recognize  an  in- 


l6o  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

finitude  of  particulars  in  regard  to  numbers,  figures, 
motions,  and  other  similar  things,  the  truth  of 
which  makes  itself  apparent  with  so  much  evidence, 
and  accords  so  well  with  my  nature,  that  when  I  be- 
gin to  discover  them  it  does  not  seem  to  me  that  I  am 
learning  anything  new,  but  rather  that  I  am  recalling 
to  mind  something  which  I  knew  before  ;*  that  is  to  say, 
that  1  become  conscious  of  things  which  were  already 
in  my  mind,  although  I  had  not  yet  turned  my  thought 
toward  them.  And  of  what  I  find  here  the  most  im- 
portant is  that  I  discover  in  myself  an  infinitude  of 
ideas  of  certain  things  which  cannot  be  regarded  as  a 
pure  non-entity,  although  perhaps  they  have  no  exist- 
ence outside  my  thought  ;  and  things  which  are 
not  mere  fancies  of  mine,  although  I  am  at  liberty 
to  think  them  or  not  to  think  them  ;  but  which  have 
a  true  and  unchangeable  nature.  As,  for  example, 
when  I  imagine  a  triangle,  although  there  may  not  be 
anywhere  in  the  world,  outside  my  thought,  such  a 
figure,  nor  ever  have  been,  there  is  not  wanting, 
nevertheless,  a  certain  nature,  form,  or  determinate 
essence  of  this  figure,  which  is  immutable  and  eternal, 
which  I  did  not  invent,  and  which  does  not  depend  in 
any  way  on  my  mind  ;  as  appears  from  the  fact  that 
there  may  be  demonstrated  divers  properties  of  this 
triangle,  to  wit,  that  its  three  angles  are  equal  to  two 
right  angles,  that  its  greatest  angle  is  subtended  by 
its  greatest  side,  and  other  similar  truths,  which  now, 
whether  I  will  or  no,  I  recognize  very  clearly  and  very 
evidently  as  being  in  it,  although  I  had  not  before 
thought  of  it  in  this  way  when  for  the  first  time 

*  Cf.  Plato,   doctrine   of   reminiscence.     Meno,    81  ;  Jowett's 
trans.,  vol.  i.  p.  283,  Oxford  ed. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  161 

I  imagined  a  triangle ;  and  accordingly  it  cannot 
be  said  that  I  have  fancied  or  invented  these 
things. 

And  I  make  nothing  here  of  the  objection  that  per- 
haps this  idea  of  the  triangle  has  come  into  mind 
through  the  medium  of  my  senses,  from  my  having 
seen  sometimes  bodies  of  a  triangular  shape  ;  for  I  can 
form  in  my  mind  an  infinitude  of  other  figures,  of 
which  there  cannot  be  the  least  suspicion  that  they 
ever  fell  under  the  observation  of  my  senses,  and  yet 
I  should  not  be  wanting  in  power  to  demonstrate 
divers  properties  belonging  to  their  nature,  as  well  as 
those  which  belong  to  that  of  the  triangle  ;  which, 
certainly,  must  all  be  true,  since  I  clearly  conceive 
them ;  and  therefore  they  are  something,  and  not 
pure  non-entity  ;  for  it  is  very  evident  that  everything 
that  is  true  is  something,  truth  being  identical  with 
existence  ;  and  I  have  already  fully  demonstrated 
above  that  all  things  that  I  clearly  and  distinctly  know 
are  true.  And  although  I  had  not  demonstrated  it, 
nevertheless  the  nature  of  my  mind  is  such  that  I  can- 
not restrain  myself  from  regarding  them  as  true  so 
long  as  I  conceive  them  clearly  and  distinctly  ;  and  I 
remind  myself  that  at  the  very  time  when  I  was  still 
strongly  bound  to  the  objects  of  sense  I  set  down 
among  the  most  certain  truths  those  which  I  con- 
ceive clearly  and  distinctly  in  regard  to  figures, 
mimbers,  and  the  other  things  which  belong  to  arith- 
metic and  geometry. 

But  now,  if  from  the  simple  fact  that  I  can  draw  from 
my  thought  the  idea  of  anything  it  follows  that  all  that 
I  recognize  clearly  and  distinctly  to  pertain  to  this 
thing  pertains  to  it  in  reality,  can  I  not  draw  from 


162  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  II 

this  an  argument  and  a  demonstration  of  the  exis- 
tence of  God  ?*  It  is  certain  that  I  do  not  find  in  me 
the  less  the  idea  of  him,  that  is,  of  a  being  supremely 
perfect,  than  that  of  any  figure  or  of  any  number 
whatever  ;  and  I  do  not  know  less  clearly  and  distinctly 
that  an  actual  and  eternal  existence  belongs  to  his  na- 
ture than  I  know  that  all  that  I  can  demonstrate  of  any 
figure  or  of  any  number  belongs  truly  to  the  nature  of 
that  figure  or  that  number  :  and  accordingly,  although 
all  that  I  have  concluded  in  the  preceding  meditations 
may  not  turn  out  to  be  true,  the  existence  of  God 
ought  to  pass  in  my  mind  as  being  at  least  as  certain 
as  I  have  up  to  this  time  regarded  the  truths  of  mathe- 
matics to  be,  which  have  to  do  only  with  numbers 
and  figures  :  although,  indeed,  that  might  not  seem 
at  first  to  be  perfectly  evident,  but  might  appear  to  have 
some  appearance  of  sophistry.  For  being  accus- 
tomed in  all  other  things  to  make  a  distinction  be- 
tween existence  and  essence,  I  easily  persuade  myself 
that  existence  may  perhaps  be  separated  from  the  es- 
sence of  God,  and  thus  God  might  be  conceived  as 
not  existent  actually.  But  nevertheless,  when  I  think 
more  attentively,  I  find  that  existence  can  no  more 
be  separated  from  the  essence  of  God  than  from 
the  essence  of  a  rectilinear  triangle  can  be  separated 
the  equality  of  its  three  angles  to  two  right  angles, 
or,  indeed,  if  you  please,  from  the  idea  of  a  moun- 
tain the  idea  of  a  valley  ;  so  that  there  would  be 

*  Cf.  argument  in  Med.  Ill,  above,  pp.  126-146. 

For  a  statement  of  the  difference  between  the  ontological  ar- 
gument of  Descartes  and  that  of  St.  Thomas  (of  Anselm  originally) 
see  the  Reply  to  Caterus  ((Euvres,  t.  i,  p.  389).  The  Anselmic 
argument  (Proslogion,  c.  2, 4)  may  be  found  stated  in  Shedd's 
Hist,  of  Chr.  Doct.,  vol.  i,  p.  231  et  seq. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  163 

no  less  contradiction  in  conceiving  of  a  God — that 
is,  of  a  being  supremely  perfect,  to  whom  existence 
was  wanting,  that  is  to  say,  to  whom  there  was  want- 
ing any  perfection — than  in  conceiving  of  a  mountain 
which  had  no  valley. 

But  although,  in  reality,  I  might  not  be  able  to  con- 
ceive of  a  God  without  existence,  no  more  than  of  a 
mountain  without  a  valley,  nevertheless,  as  from  the 
simple  fact  that  I  conceive  a  mountain  with  a  valley, 
it  does  not  follow  that  there  exists  any  mountain  in  the 
world,  so  likewise,  although  I  conceive  God  as  exist- 
ent, it  does  not  follow,  it  seems,  from  that,  that  God 
exists,  for  my  thought  does  not  impose  any  necessity 
on  things  ;  and  as  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  my 
imagining  a  winged  horse,  although  there  is  none 
which  has  wings,  so  I  might,  perhaps,  be  able  to  at- 
tribute existence  to  God,  although  there  might  not  be 
any  God  which  existed.  So  far  from  this  being  so,  it 
is  just  here  under  the  appearance  of  this  objection 
that  a  sophism  lies  hid  ;  for  from  the  fact  that  I 
cannot  conceive  a  mountain  without  a  valley,  it  does 
not  follow  that  there  exists  in  the  world  any  mountain 
or  any  valley,  but  solely  that  the  mountain  and  the 
valley,  whether  they  exist  or  not,  are  inseparable  from 
one  another ;  whereas,  from  the  fact  alone  that  I  can- 
not conceive  God  except  as  existent,  it  follows  that 
existence  is  inseparable  from  him,  and,  consequently, 
that  he  exists  in  reality  ;  not  that  my  thought  can 
make  it  to  be  so,  or  that  it  can  impose  any  necessity 
upon  things  ;  but  on  the  contrary  the  necessity  which 
is  in  the  thing  itself,  that  is  to  say,  the  necessity 
of  the  existence  of  God,  determines  me  to  have  this 
thought. 

For  it  is  not  at  my  will  to  conceive  of  a  God  with- 


164  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

out  existence,  that  is  to  say,  a  being  supremely  perfect 
without  a  supreme  perfection,  as  it  is  at  my  will  to 
conceive  a  horse  with  wings  or  without  wings. 

And  it  must  not  also  be  said  here  that  it  is  neces- 
sarily true  that  I  should  affirm  that  God  exists,  after 
I  have  supposed  him  to  possess  all  kinds  of  perfec- 
tion, since  existence  is  one  of  these,  but  that  my 
first  supposition  is  not  necessary,  no  more  than  it  is 
necessary  to  affirm  that  all  figures  of  four  sides  may 
be  inscribed  in  the  circle,  but  that,  supposing  I  had 
this  thought,  I  should  be  constrained  to  admit  that  the 
rhombus  can  be  inscribed  there,  since  it  is  a  figure  of 
four  sides,  and  thus  I  should  be  constrained  to  admit 
something  false.  One  ought  not,  I  say,  to  allege  this  ; 
for  although  it  may  not  be  necessary  that  I  should 
ever  fall  to  thinking  about  God,  nevertheless,  when  it 
happens  that  I  think  upon  a  being  first  and  supreme, 
and  draw,  so  to  speak,  the  idea  of  him  from  the  store- 
house of  mind,  it  is  necessary  that  I  attribute  to  him 
every  sort  of  perfection,  although  I  may  not  go  on  to 
enumerate  them  all,  and  give  attention  to  each  one  in 
particular.  And  this  necessity  is  sufficient  to  bring  it 
about  (as  soon  as  I  recognize  that  I  should  next  con- 
elude  that  existence  is  a  perfection)  that  this  first  and 
supreme  being  exists  :  while,  just  as  it  is  not  necessary 
that  I  ever  imagine  a  triangle,  but  whenever  I  choose 
to  consider  a  rectilineal  figure,  composed  solely  of 
three  angles,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  I  attrib- 
ute to  it  all  the  things  which  serve  for  the  conclusion 
that  these  three  angles  are  not  greater  than  two  right 
angles,  although,  perhaps,  I  did  not  then  consider  this 
in  particular. 

But  when  I  inquire  what  figures  are  capable  of  being 
inscribed  in  the  circle,  it  is  in  no  way  necessary  that  I 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  165 

think  that  all  figures  of  four  sides  are  of  this  number. 
On  the  contrary,  I  cannot  ever  fancy  this  to  be  the  case, 
in  so  far  as  I  am  willing  to  receive  into  my  thought 
only  that  which  I  can  conceive  clearly  and  distinctly. 
Consequently  there  is  a  great  difference  between  false 
suppositions,  such  as  this,  and  the  true  ideas,  which 
are  born  with  me,  of  which  the  first  and  principal  is 
that  of  God.  For,  in  truth,  I  recognize  in  many  ways 
that  this  idea  is  not  anything  fancied  or  invented, 
depending  solely  on  my  thought,  but  it  is  the  image 
of  a  veritable  and  immutable  nature  ;  first,  because  I 
cannot  conceive  any  other  thing  than  God  alone,  to 
the  essence  of  which  existence  pertains  by  necessity, 
moreover,  also,  because  it  is  not  possible  for  me  to 
conceive  two  or  more  Gods  such  as  he  is  ;  and  grant- 
ing that  there  is  one  such  who  now  exists,  I  see  clearly 
that  it  is  necessary  that  he  should  have  existed  from 
all  eternity,  and  that  he  will  exist  eternally  in  the  fu- 
ture, and  finally,  because  I  conceive  many  other  things 
in  God  wherein  I  can  diminish  or  change  nothing 
whatever.  As  for  the  rest,  whatever  proof  or  argu- 
ment I  may  employ,  it  is  always  necessary  to  return  to 
this,  that  it  is  only  the  things  which  I  conceive  clearly 
and  distinctly  that  have  the  force  to  produce  complete 
conviction. 

And  although,  among  the  things  which  I  conceive 
in  this  manner,  there  are  indeed  some  of  them  clearly 
known  by  everybody,  and  there  are  others  also  which 
are  not  discovered  except  by  those  who  consider  them 
more  closely,  and  who  investigate  them  more  exactly, 
nevertheless,  after  they  are  once  discovered,  they  are 
reckoned  no  less  certain  than  the  former.  As,  for  ex- 
ample, in  every  right-angled  triangle,  although  it  may 
not  at  first  appear  so  readily  that  the  square  of  the 


l66  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

base  is  equal  to  the  squares  of  the  other  two  sides,  as 
it  is  plain  that  this  base  is  opposite  the  greatest  angle, 
nevertheless,  after  this  is  once  recognized,  one  is  as 
much  persuaded  of  the  one  truth  as  of  the  other. 
And  as  respects  God,  surely,  if  my  mind  were  not 
hindered  by  any  prejudices,  and  my  thought  did  not 
find  itself  diverted  by  the  continual  presence  of  the 
images  of  sensible  things,  there  would  be  nothing 
which  I  should  not  sooner  and  more  readily  know  than 
him.  For  is  there  anything  of  itself  more  clear  and 
more  evident  than  the  thought  that  there  is  a  God  ; 
that  is  to  say,  a  being  supreme  and  perfect  in  the  idea 
of  which  alone  necessary  or  eternal  existence  is  com- 
prised, and  consequently  who  exists  ? 

And,  although,  for  the  right  conceiving  of  this  truth, 
I  might  have  need  of  great  application  of  mind,  never- 
theless, at  present,  I  not  only  consider  myself  as  much 
assured  of  it  as  of  anything  that  seems  to  me  most 
certain,  but  I  observe,  in  addition,  that  the  certainty 
of  all  other  things  depends  so  absolutely  upon  it,  that 
without  this  knowledge  it  is  impossible  to  be  able  ever 
to  know  anything  perfectly.  Because,  although  I  am 
of  such  a  nature  that,  immediately  on  comprehending 
anything  very  clearly  and  very  distinctly,  I  cannot 
help  believing  it  to  be  true  ;  nevertheless,  because  I 
am  also  of  such  a  nature  that  I  cannot  keep  my  mind 
continually  fixed  upon  the  same  thing,  and  because  I 
remember  that  I  have  often  judged  something  to  be 
true,  yet  when  I  stopped  thinking  of  the  reasons  which 
obliged  me  to  judge  it  to  be  so,  it  might  happen  dur- 
ing that  time  that  other  reasons  would  present  them- 
selves to  me,  which  would  easily  make  me  change  my 
opinion,  if  I  did  not  know  that  there  was  a  God  ;  and 
thus  I  should  have  no  true  and  certain  knowledge  of 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  167 

anything  whatever,  but  solely  vague  and  wavering 
opinions.  As,  for  example,  when  I  am  considering 
the  nature  of  the  rectilinear  triangle,  I  perceive 
clearly,  since  I  am  somewhat  versed  in  geometry,  that 
its  three  angles  are  equal  to  two  right  angles  ;  and  it 
is  impossible  for  me  not  to  believe  it,  so  long  as  I  apply 
my  mind  to  the  demonstration  of  it ;  but  as  soon  as 
I  turn  away  from  it,  although  I  might  remember  hav- 
ing clearly  comprehended  it,  nevertheless  it  might 
easily  happen  that  I  should  doubt  its  truth,  if  I  did 
not  know  that  there  was  a  God  ;  for  I  might  persuade 
myself  that  I  had  been  so  made  by  nature  that  I  could 
easily  deceive  myself  even  in  things  that  I  believed  I 
comprehended  with  most  evidence  and  certitude  ; 
especially  since  I  recollect  that  I  have  often  con- 
sidered many  things  true  and  certain,  which,  for  other 
reasons,  I  have  afterward  been  led  to  pronounce 
absolutely  false. 

But  after  I  have  recognized  the  existence  of  a 
God,  and  because  I  have  at  the  same  time  recognized 
the  fact  that  all  things  depend  upon  him,  and  that  he 
is  no  deceiver,  and  in  consequence  of  that  I  have 
judged  that  all  that  I  conceive  clearly  and  distinctly 
cannot  fail  to  be  true,  although  I  do  not  think  longer 
on  the  reasons  on  account  of  which  I  have  held  it  to 
be  true,  provided  solely  that  I  recollect  having  clearly 
and  distinctly  understood  it,  no  opposing  reason  can 
be  brought  against  me  which  should  make  me  ever 
call  it  in  question  ;  and  thus  I  have  a  true  and  certain 
knowledge  of  it.  And  this  same  knowledge  extends 
also  to  all  the  other  things  which  I  recollect  having 
formerly  demonstrated,  as  the  truths  of  geometry  and 
others  like  them  ;  for  what  is  there  which  can  be 
objected  to  oblige  me  to  call  them  in  question  ?  Will 


l68  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  II 

it  be  that  my  nature  is  such  that  I  am  very  liable  to 
be  mistaken  ?  But  I  know  already  that  I  cannot 
deceive  myself  in  judgments  the  reasons  for  which  I 
clearly  perceive.  Will  it  be  that  I  have  formerly 
regarded  many  things  as  true  and  certain  which  after- 
ward I  have  discovered  to  be  false  ?  But  I  did  not 
perceive  any  of  those  things  clearly  and  distinctly, 
and,  not  knowing  as  yet  this  rule  whereby  I  assure 
myself  of  truth,  I  was  led  to  believe  them  for  reasons 
that  I  have  since  recognized  to  be  less  strong  than  at 
that  time  I  imagined  them  to  be.  What,  then,  can  be 
objected  further  ?  Will  it  be  that  perhaps  I  am  asleep 
(as  I  myself  have  objected  heretofore),  or  rather  that 
all  the  thoughts  which  I  now  have  are  no  more  true 
than  the  dreams  that  we  imagine  when  asleep  ? 

But  even  if  I  am  asleep,  all  that  presents  itself  to 
my  mind  with  evidence  is  absolutely  true.  And  thus 
I  recognize  very  clearly  that  the  certainty  and  the 
truth  of  all  knowledge  depend  on  the  knowledge 
alone  of  the  true  God  :  so  that  before  I  knew  him  I 
could  not  perfectly  know  anything  else.  And  now 
that  I  know  him,  I  have  the  means  of  acquiring  a 
perfect  knowledge  of  an  infinitude  of  things,  not  only 
of  those  which  are  in  him,  but  also  of  those  which 
belong  to  corporeal  nature,  in  so  far  as  it  can  be  made 
the  object  of  geometrical  demonstrations,  which  do 
not  consider  it  in  respect  to  its  existence. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  169 


SIXTH  MEDITATION. 

Of  the  existence  of  material  things,  and  of  the  real  dis- 
tinction between  the  soul  and  the  body  of  man. 

THERE  remains  to  me  further  only  to  inquire 
whether  there  are  any  material  things  ;  and  surely 
I  know  already  that  they  can  exist,  at  least  in  so  far 
as  they  are  regarded  as  the  object  of  geometrical 
demonstrations,  seeing  that  in  this  way  I  conceive 
them  very  clearly  and  very  distinctly.  For  there  is 
no  doubt  but  that  God  has  the  power  to  produce 
everything  that  I  am  capable  of  conceiving  with  dis- 
tinctness ;  and  I  never  held  that  it  was  impossible  for 
him  to  do  anything  except  on  the  ground  alone  that 
I  discovered  contradiction  in  the  conception  of  it. 
Moreover,  the  faculty  of  imagination  which  exists 
within  me,  and  of  which  I  see  by  experience  that  I 
make  use  whenever  I  apply  myself  to  the  considera- 
tion of  material  things,  is  capable  of  persuading  me  of 
their  existence  ;  for  when  I  consider  attentively  the 
nature  of  imagination,  I  find  that  it  is  nothing  else 
than  a  certain  application  of  the  faculty  of  knowledge 
to  a  body  which  is  immediately  present  to  it,  and 
which  therefore  exists.  And  to  make  this  very  evi- 
dent I  observe,  first,  the  difference  between  imagina- 
tion and  pure  intellection  or  conception.  For  in- 
stance, when  I  imagine  a  triangle,  not  only  do  I 
conceive  that  it  is  a  figure  composed  of  three  lines, 
but  along  with  that  I  imagine  these  three  lines  as 
present,  by  the  force  and  internal  application  of  my 


170  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

mind  ;  and  it  is  precisely  this  which  I  call  imagining. 
Whereas,  if  I  desire  to  think  of  a  chiliagon,  I  conceive 
indeed  that  it  is  a  figure  composed  of  a  thousand 
sides  as  easily  as  I  conceive  that  a  triangle  is  a  figure 
composed  of  three  sides  only  ;  but  I  cannot  imagine 
the  thousand  sides  of  a  chiliagon  as  I  do  the  three 
sides  of  a  triangle,  nor,  so  to  speak,  do  I  see  them 
present  with  the  eyes  of  my  mind. 

And  although,  in  consequence  of  the  habit  I  have 
of  always  using  my  imagination  when  I  think  of  cor- 
poreal things,  it  happens  that  on  conceiving  a  chiliagon 
I  represent  confusedly  to  myself  some  figure,  never- 
theless it  is  very  evident  that  this  figure  is  not  a 
chiliagon,  since  it  does  not  differ  at  all  from  that 
which  I  should  represent  to  myself  if  I  were  thinking 
of  a  myriagon  or  of  any  other  figure  having  a  great 
many  sides  ;  and  it  would  not  serve  in  any  way  in 
the  discovery  of  the  properties  which  distinguish  the 
chiliagon  from  other  polygons.  Whereas,  if  the  sub- 
ject of  consideration  is  a  pentagon,  it  is  very  true  that 
I  can  conceive  its  figure,  as  indeed  that  of  a  chilia- 
gon, without  the  aid  of  the  imagination  ;  but  I  can 
also  imagine  it,  by  giving  my  mind's  attention  to  each 
of  its  five  sides,  and  to  the  whole  of  them  together,  in 
respect  to  air  or  the  space  which  they  inclose. 

Thus  I  see  clearly  that  I  require  a  particular  effort 
of  mind  for  imagining  anything  of  which  I  do  not 
make  use  for  conceiving  or  understanding  ;  and  this 
particular  mental  effort  shows  clearly  the  difference 
between  imagination  and  intellection  or  pure  concep- 
tion.* I  observe,  moreover,  that  this  power  of  imagin- 
ing which  is  within  me,  in  so  far  as  it  differs  from  the 

*  Cf.  Leibnitz,  De  Cognitione,  Veritate  et  Ideis,  Opera  Philo- 
sophica,  p.  79,  Erdmann,  1840. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  171 

power  of  conceiving,  is  in  no  way  necessary  to  my 
nature  or  to  my  essence,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  essence 
of  my  mind  ;  for,  even  if  I  did  not  have  it,  there  is  no 
doubt  I  should  remain  always  the  same  that  I  am 
now  ;  whence,  apparently,  we  may  conclude  that  it 
depends  on  something  which  is  different  from  my 
mind.  And  I  easily  conceive  that  if  somebody  exists, 
to  which  my  mind  is  so  joined  and  united  that  it  may 
apply  itself  to  the  consideration  of  it  whenever  it  may 
please,  it  may  be  by  this  means  that  it  imagines  cor- 
poreal things ;  so  that  this  mode  of  thought  differs 
from  pure  intellection  solely  in  this  :  that  the  mind,  in 
conceiving,  turns  itself  in  a  manner  toward  itself  and 
considers  some  one  of  the  ideas  which  it  has  in  itself ; 
but,  in  imagining,  it  turns  itself  toward  the  body  and 
considers  in  it  something  conformed  to  the  idea  which 
it  has  formed  itself,  or  which  it  has  received  through 
the  senses.  I  easily  conceive,  I  say,  that  imagination 
may  do  something  of  this  sort,  if  it  be  true  that  there 
are  bodies  ;  and  because  I  cannot  find  any  other  way 
of  explaining  how  it  happens,  I  conjecture  from  this 
that  probably  they  exist  ;  but  only  probably  ;  and 
although  I  carefully  investigate  everything,  I  never- 
theless do  not  find,  from  this  distinct  idea  of  corporeal 
nature  which  I  have  in  my  imagination,  that  I  can 
draw  any  argument  which  necessitates  the  conclusion 
that  a  body  exists. 

But  I  have  been  wont  to  imagine  many  other  things 
besides  this  corporeal  nature  which  is  the  object  of 
geometry,  to  wit,  colors,  sounds,  flavors,  pain,  and 
other  things  similar,  although  less  distinctly  ;  and, 
inasmuch  as  I  perceive  these  things  much  better  by 
the  senses,  through  the  medium  of  which  and  of  the 
memory  they  seem  to  be  brought  before  my  imagina- 


172  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

tion,  I  think  that,  in  order  to  examine  them  more 
conveniently,  it  is  fitting  that  I  inquire  at  the  same 
time  what  it  is  to  feel ;  and  that  I  see  whether  from 
these  ideas  that  I  receive  into  my  mind  by  this  mode 
of  thought  which  I  call  feeling,  I  cannot  draw  some 
certain  proof  of  the  existence  of  corporeal  things. 
And,  in  the  first  place,  I  shall  call  up  to  mind  what 
things  I  have  hitherto  held  to  be  true,  as  having 
received  them  through  the  senses,  and  upon  what 
foundations  my  belief  rested  ;  afterward  I  shall 
examine  the  reasons  which  have  since  obliged  me  to 
call  them  in  question  ;  and,  finally,  I  shall  consider 
what  I  ought  at  present  to  believe. 

First,  then,  I  felt  that  I  had  a  head,  hands,  feet,  and 
all  the  other  members  of  which  this  body  is  composed, 
which  I  considered  as  a  part  of  myself  or  perhaps 
even  as  the  whole  ;  moreover,  I  felt  that  this  body 
was  placed  among  many  others,  from  which  it  was 
capable  of  receiving  various  impressions,  favorable 
and  unfavorable,  and  I  took  notice  of  the  favorable 
through  a  certain  feeling  of  pleasure  or  delight,  and 
of  those  unfavorable  through  a  feeling  of  pain.  And 
besides  this  pleasure  and  this  pain,  I  had  the  sensa- 
tions within  me  also  of  hunger,  thirst,  and  other 
similar  appetites  ;  as  also  of  certain  bodily  inclina- 
tions toward  joy  and  sadness,  anger  and  other  like 
passions.  And  externally,  besides  extension,  figures, 
movements  of  bodies,  I  observed  in  them  hardness, 
warmth,  and  all  the  other  qualities  which  fall  under 
touch ;  moreover,  I  observed  light,  colors,  odors, 
tastes,  and  sounds,  the  variety  of  which  afforded  me 
means  of  distinguishing  the  sky,  the  earth,  the  sea, 
and,  in  general,  all  other  bodies  one  from  another. 
And  surely,  considering  the  ideas  of  all  these  qualities 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  173 

which  presented  themselves  to  my  thought,  and  which 
alone  I  properly  and  immediately  felt,  it  was  not  with- 
out reason  that  I  believed  that  I  felt  things  entirely 
different  from  my  thought,  to  wit,  bodies,  whence 
proceeded  these  ideas  ;  for  I  discovered  that  they 
presented  themselves  to  it  without  requiring  my  con- 
sent  thereto,  so  that  I  could  not  perceive  any  object, 
however  I  might  desire  it,  if  it  did  not  happen  to  be 
present  to  the  organ  of  some  one  of  my  senses ;  and 
it  was  not  in  my  power  not  to  perceive  it  whenever  it 
should  be  present  there. 

And  because  the  ideas  that  I  received  by  the  senses 
were  much  more  lively,  more  vivid,  and  even  in  their 
way  more  distinct,  than  any  of  those  which  I  could 
fashion  of  myself  in  meditation,  or  even  than  I  found 
impressed  upon  my  memory,  it  seemed  that  they 
could  not  proceed  from  my  mind  ;  so  that  it  was 
necessary  that  they  should  be  caused  in  me  by  ex- 
ternal things.  Of  which  things  since  I  had  no  knowl- 
edge, except  this,  that  they  gave  me  these  ideas,  noth- 
ing else  could  occur  to  me  but  that  these  external 
things  were  like  the  ideas  which  they  caused.  And 
because  I  reminded  myself  also  that  I  more  frequently 
used  my  senses  than  my  reason,  and  I  took  notice 
that  the  ideas  which  I  formed  of  myself  were  not  so 
vivid  as  those  which  I  received  through  the  senses, 
and  also  that  they  were  oftener  made  up  of  parts  than 
the  latter  were,  I  easily  persuaded  myself  that  I  had 
no  idea  in  my  mind  which  had  not  first  passed  through 
my  senses.  It  was  not  without  reason,  also,  that  I 
believed  that  this  body,  which  by  a  certain  peculiar 
right  I  called  my  own,  belonged  to  me  more  properly 
and  more  strictly  than  any  other  ;  for,  in  reality,  I 
could  never  be  separated  from  it  as  from  other  bodies; 


174  THE  PHILOSOPHY  ov  DESCARTES.      [PART  II 

I  experienced  in  it  and  on  account  of  it  all  my  appe- 
tites and  all  my  passions  ;  and,  finally,  I  was  affected 
with  feelings  of  pleasure  and  of  pain  in  its  members, 
and  not  in  those  of  other  bodies  which  were  separate 
from  it.  But  when  I  inquired  why,  from  this  indefinite 
feeling  of  pain  sadness  arose  in  the  mind,  and  from 
the  feeling  of  pleasure  joy  sprang  up,  or,  if  you  please, 
why  this  vague  feeling  of  the  stomach,  which  I  call 
hunger,  should  cause  us  to  desire  to  eat,  and  the  dry- 
ness  of  the  throat  should  cause  us  to  desire  to  drink, 
and  so  of  the  rest,  I  could  assign  no  reason  for  it 
except  that  nature  had  so  taught  me  ;  for  there  is, 
surely,  no  affinity  nor  relationship,  at  least  none  that  I 
could  comprehend,  between  this  feeling  of  the  stomach 
and  the  desire  to  eat,  no  more  than  between  the  feeling 
of  the  thing  which  causes  pain  and  the  thought  of 
sadness  to  which  this  feeling  gives  birth. 

And  in  the  same  way  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had 
learned  from  nature  all  the  other  things  that  I  judged 
to  be  true  concerning  the  objects  of  my  senses  ;  be- 
cause I  observed  that  the  judgments  that  I  was  accus- 
tomed to  make  of  these  objects  formed  themselves  in 
me  before  I  had  time  to  deliberate  and  consider  any 
reasons  which  should  oblige  me  to  make  them. 

But  afterward  many  experiences  destroyed,  little  by 
little,  all  the  confidence  I  had  reposed  in  my  senses  ; 
for  I  observed  many  times  that  towers,  which  from  a 
distance  seemed  to  me  to  be  round,  near  at  hand  ap- 
peared to  me  to  be  square,  and  that  colossal  figures 
raised  upon  the  very  high  summits  of  these  towers 
appeared  to  me  to  be  small  statues  when  looked  at 
from  below ;  and  so,  in  a  multitude  of  other  experi- 
ences, I  have  discovered  error  in  judgments  based 
upon  the  external  senses  ;  and  not  only  upon  the 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  175 

external  senses,  but  even  upon  the  internal  ;  for  is 
there  anything  more  personal  or  more  internal  than 
pain  ?  and,  nevertheless,  I  have  sometimes  heard  of 
persons  who  had  their  arms  and  legs  cut  off,  that  it 
still  seemed  to  them  sometimes  that  they  felt  pain  in 
the  part  which  no  longer  belonged  to  them  ;  which 
circumstance  has  given  me  ground  to  think  that  I  my- 
self could  not  be  quite  sure  that  anything  was  the 
matter  with  any  of  my  members  even  if  I  did  feel  pain 
in  it. 

And  to  these  reasons  for  doubt  I  further  added, 
not  long  since,  two  others  quite  general ;  the  first  is 
that  I  never  believed  myself  to  perceive  anything  when 
awake  that  I  could  not  also  believe  I  perceived  when 
asleep  ;  and  as  I  did  not  believe  that  the  things  that 
I  thought  I  perceived  when  asleep  proceeded  from 
any  objects  outside  of  me,  I  did  not  see  why  I  ought 
any  more  to  have  this  confidence  in  respect  to  those 
which  I  thought  I  perceived  when  awake  ;  and  the 
second,  that  not  knowing  yet,  or  rather  feigning  that 
I  did  not  know,  the  author  of  my  being,  I  did  not  see 
anything  to  hinder  that  I  might  not  have  been  so  made 
by  nature  that  I  might  deceive  myself  even  in  things 
which  appeared  to  me  the  most  certain. 

And  as  for  the  arguments  which  hitherto  persuaded 
me  of  the  truth  of  sensible  things,  I  had  no  great  dif- 
ficulty in  answering  them  ;  for  nature  appearing  to 
carry  me  toward  many  things  from  which  reason 
turned  me  aside,  I  did  not  believe  I  ought  to  trust 
very  much  to  the  teachings  of  this  nature. 

And  although  the  ideas  which  I  received  by  the 
senses  did  not  depend  upon  my  will,  I  did  not  con- 
clude on  that  account  that  they  proceeded  from  things 
different  from  myself,  since,  perhaps,  there  might  be 


176  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

found  in  me  some  faculty,  although  it  might  be  up  to 
the  present  unknown  to  me,  which  was  the  cause  of 
them,  and  which  produced  them.  But  now  that  I  am 
beginning  to  understand  myself  better,  and  to  dis- 
cover more  clearly  the  source  of  my  being,  I  do  not 
think  in  truth  that  I  ought  rashly  to  admit  all  the 
things  which  the  senses  appear  to  teach  me,  but  I  do 
not  think  also  that  I  ought  to  call  them  universally  in 
question. 

And  in  the  first  place,  because  I  know  that  all 
things  which  I  conceive  clearly  and  distinctly  may  be 
produced  by  God  such  as  I  conceive  them,  it  is  suf- 
ficient that  I  can  conceive  clearly  and  distinctly  one 
thing  without  another,  to  make  it  certain  that  the  one 
is  distinct  or  different  from  the  other,  because  they 
might  be  separated  at  least  by  the  almighty  power  of 
God  ;  and  it  makes  no  difference  by  what  power  this 
separation  is  effected,  to  make  the  judgment  neces- 
sary that  they  are  different  ;  and  because,  from  the 
fact  itself  that  I  know  with  certainty  that  I'exist,  and, 
nevertheless,  I  do  not  observe  that  there  necessarily 
belongs  to  my  nature  or  to  my  essence  anything  else, 
but  that  I  am  a  thing  which  thinks,  I  very  properly  con- 
clude that  my  essence  consists  in  this  alone  that  I  am  a 
thing  which  thinks,  or  a  substance  the  whole  essence  or 
nature  of  which  is  only  to  think.  And  although,  per- 
haps, or  rather,  certainly,  as  I  shall  show  directly,  I 
may  have  a  body  to  which  I  am  very  closely  united  ; 
nevertheless,  because  I  have,  on  the  one  side,  a  clear 
and  distinct  idea  of  myself,  in  so  far  as  I  am  solely  a 
thing  which  thinks,  and  is  not  extended,  and  on  the 
other  I  have  a  distinct  idea  of  body,  in  so  far  as  it 
is  solely  a  thing  extended,  and  which  does  not  think, 
it  is  certain  that  I,  that  is  to  say,  my  soul,  by  which  I 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  177 

am  what  I  am,  is  entirely  and  truly  distinct  from  my 
body,  and  that  it  may  be,  or  exist,  without  it.* 

Moreover,  I  find  within  me  divers  faculties  of 
thought,  each  of  which  has  its  peculiar  mode  ;  for  ex- 
ample, I  find  within  me  the  faculties  of  imagination 
and  perception,  without  which  I  can  easily  conceive 
myself  as  a  whole  clearly  and  distinctly,  but  not 
reciprocally  these  without  myself,  that  is  to  say,  without 
an  intelligent  substance,  to  which  they  are  attached 
or  to  which  they  belong  :  because,  in  the  notion  which 
we  have  of  these  faculties,  or — to  make  use  of  the 
scholastic  terms — in  their  formal  concept,  they  include 
some  sort  of  intellection  ;  whence  I  conclude  that  they 
are  distinct  from  me  as  modes  are  from  things.  I  am 
conscious,  also,  of  certain  other  faculties,  as  those  of 
locomotion,  of  assuming  various  positions,  and  others 
similar,  which  cannot  be  conceived,  any  more  than  the 
preceding,  without  some  substance  to  which  they  are 
attached,  nor  consequently  exist  without  it ;  but  it  is 
very  evident  that  these  faculties,  if  it  be  true  that  they 
exist,  must  belong  to  some  corporeal  or  extended  sub- 
stance, and  not  to  an  intelligent  substance,  since  in  the 
clear  and  distinct  concept  of  them  there  is  indeed 
found  contained  some  sort  of  extension,  but  no  intelli- 
gence whatever. 

Moreover,  I  cannot  doubt  that  there  is  within  me  a 
certain  passive  faculty  of  perception — that  is  to  say,  of 
receiving  and  of  recognizing  the  ideas  of  sensible 
things  ;  but  it  would  be  useless  to  me,  and  I  could  not 
in  any  way  avail  myself  of  it,  if  there  were  not  also  in 
me,  or  in  some  other  thing,  another  active  faculty, 

*Cf.  Print.,  i,  51-56  (CEuvres,  t.  3,  p.  94,  Lat.  p.  13).  below  p. 
194,  and  Geom.  proof,  Prop.  IV.,  (Euvrcs,  t.  3,  p.  464.  Veitch, 
p.  273. 


1 78  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  II 

capable  of  forming  and  producing  these  ideas.  But 
this  active  faculty  cannot  be  in  me  in  so  far  as  I  am  only 
a  thing  which  thinks,  seeing  that  it  does  not  presup- 
pose my  thought,  and  that  these  ideas  are  often  repre- 
sented in  me  without  my  contributing  to  it  in  any 
manner,  and  even  often  against  my  desire  ;  it  must, 
therefore,  necessarily  be  in  some  substance  different 
from  me,  in  which  all  the  reality,  which  is  objectively 
in  the  ideas  produced  by  this  faculty,  is  contained  form- 
ally or  eminently,  as  I  have  already  observed  ;  and 
this  substance  is  either  a  body,  that  is  to  say,  a  cor- 
poreal nature,  in  which  is  contained  formally  and  in 
reality  all  that  is  objectively  and  representatively  in 
the  ideas  ;  or  else  it  is  God  himself,  or  some  other 
created  thing  more  noble  than  the  body,  in  which  the 
body  itself  is  contained  eminently. 

But,  God  being  no  deceiver,  it  is  very  manifest  that 
he  did  not  impart  these  ideas  to  me  immediately  from 
himself,  nor  even  by  the  medium  of  some  created  ex- 
istence in  which  their  reality  was  not  contained  form- 
ally, but  solely,  eminently.  For  as  he  has  not  given 
me  any  faculty  for  knowing  what  this  might  be,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  a  very  strong  disposition  to  believe 
that  they  come  from  corporeal  things,  I  do  not  see  how 
he  could  be  acquitted  of  deception  if  in  reality  these 
ideas  come  from  elsewhere,  or  were  produced  by  any 
other  causes  than  corporeal  things  ;  and,  accordingly, 
it  must  be  concluded  that  corporeal  things  exist.* 
Nevertheless  they  are,  perhaps,  not  altogether  such  as 
we  perceive  them  by  the  senses,  for  there  are  many 
things  which  make  this  perception  of  the  senses  very 
obscure  and  confused  ;  but  at  least  it  must  be  ad- 

*  Cf.  Ptinc.,  pt.  II,  I,  (Etivres,  t.  3,  p.  120.  Veitch's Descartes, 
p.  232. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  179 

milled  lhal  all  Ihings  lhal  I  conceive  clearly  and  dis- 
linclly — lhal  is  lo  say,  all  Ihings,  speaking  generally, 
which  are  comprised  in  Ihe  field  of  speculalive 
geomelry — aclually  exisl. 

Bui  as  for  olher  Ihings,  which  eilher  are  merely 
parlicular  [perceplions]  for  example,  lhal  Ihe  sun  is 
of  such  a  size  and  of  such  a  figure,  elc. ;  or  which  are 
less  clearly  and  less  distinctly  conceived,  as  lighl, 
sound,  pain,  and  Ihe  like,  it  is  certain  lhat  allhough 
they  are  very  doubtful  and  uncertain,  nevertheless, 
from  the  fact  alone  that  God  is  no  deceiver,  and,  con- 
sequently, that  he  did  not  permit  that  there  should  be 
any  falsity  in  my  opinions  which  he  has  not  also  given 
me  some  faculty  capable  of  correcting,  I  believe  I  may 
assuredly  conclude  that  I  have  within  me  the  means 
of  knowing  them  with  certainly.* 

And  in  Ihe  firsl  place,  there  is  no  doubt  thai  all 
that  nature  teaches  me  contains  some  truth,  for  by 
nature,  considered  in  general,  I  now  understand  noth- 
ing else  than  God  himself,f  or,  rather,  the  order  and 
disposition  which  God  has  established  in  the  creation  ; 
and  by  my  nature  in  particular  I  understand  nothing 
else  than  the  constitution  or  assemblage  of  all  the 
things  which  God  has  given  me.  But  there  is  nothing 
which  this  nature  leaches  me  more  distinctly  or  more 
sensibly  than  lhal  I  have  a  body  which  is  out  of  order 
when  I  feel  pain,  which  has  need  of  food  or  drink 
when  I  have  the  sensations  of  hunger,  or  thirst,  etc. 
And  Iherefore  I  cannot  doubt  thai  Ihere  is  in  Ihissome 
irulh. 

*  Cf.  Kant's  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  Transcendental  Dialectic, 
Book  ii,  ch.  ii,  §  4,  Professor  Watson's  Selections,  p.  166. 

f  Deus  sive  natura — Spinoza.  Notice,  however,  this  corrected 
statement. 


l8o  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  II 

Nature  teaches  me  also  by  these  sensations  of  pain, 
hunger,  thirst,  that  I  am  not  merely  lodged  in  my 
body  as  a  pilot  in  his  ship,  but,  besides,  that  I  am  very 
closely  conjoined  with  it,  and  so  mixed  and  mingled 
with  it  that  I  compose,  as  it  were,  one  whole  with  it. 
For  if  it  were  not  so,  whenever  my  body  is  hurt,  I 
should  not  on  that  account  feel  any  pain — I  who  am 
only  a  thing  which  thinks — but  I  should  perceive  this 
injury  by  the  understanding  alone,  as  a  pilot  perceives 
by  sight  if  anything  is  giving  way  in  his  vessel.  And 
when  my  body  needs  drink  or  food,  I  should  be  sim- 
ply aware  of  this,  without  being  apprised  of  it  by  the 
confused  sensations  of  hunger  and  thirst  ;  for  in 
reality  all  these  sensations  of  hunger,  thirst,  pain,  etc., 
are  nothing  but  certain  confused  forms  of  thought 
which  spring  from  and  are  dependent  upon  the  union 
and,  as  it  were,  the  blending  of  the  mind  with  the  body. 
Besides  this,  nature  teaches  me  that  many  other  bodies 
exist  around  my  own,  some  of  which  I  have  to  seek 
after  and  others  to  avoid.  And  surely,  from  the  fact 
that  I  perceive  divers  sorts  of  colors,  odors,  tastes, 
sounds,  warmth,  hardness,  etc.,  I  readily  conclude 
that  there  are  in  the  bodies  whence  these  divers  per- 
ceptions of  sense  proceed  certain  changes  which  cor- 
respond to  them,  although  perhaps  these  changes  do 
not  in  reality  resemble  them  ;  and  from  the  fact  that, 
among  these  divers  perceptions  of  the  senses,  some 
of  them  are  agreeable  and  others  disagreeable,  there 
is  no  doubt  that  my  body,  or,  rather,  my  entire  self, 
in  so  far  as  I  am  composed  of  body  and  soul,  might 
receive  divers  benefits  or  injuries  from  other  bodies 
which  surround  me. 

But  there  are  many  other  things  which  apparently 
nature  has  taught  me,  which  nevertheless  I  did  not 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  181 

really  learn  from  her,  but  which  have  introduced 
themselves  into  my  mind  through  a  certain  habit  I 
have  of  judging  of  things  inconsiderately  ;  and  so  it 
can  easily  happen  that  they  contain  some  falsity  ;  as, 
for  example,  the  opinion  I  have  that  every  space,  in 
which  there  is  nothing  which  moves  and  makes  im- 
pression upon  my  senses,  is  empty  ;  that  in  a  body 
which  is  warm  there  is  anything  resembling  the  idea 
of  warmth  which  is  in  me;  that  in  a  white  or  black 
body  there  is  the  same  whiteness  or  blackness  which 
I  perceive  ;  that  in  a  bitter  or  sweet  body  there  is  the 
same  taste,  or  the  same  flavor,  and  so  of  the  rest ; 
that  stars,  towers,  and  other  distant  bodies  are  of  the 
same  figure  and  size  as  they  appear  from  afar  to  be 
to  our  eyes,  etc. 

But  in  order  that  there  may  be  nothing  in  this 
that  I  do  not  distinctly  conceive,  I  ought  precisely 
to  define  what  I  mean  when  I  say  that  nature 
teaches  me  anything.  For  I  use  the  term  nature 
here  in  a  more  restricted  sense  than  when  I  called  it 
an  assemblage  or  constitution  of  all  the  things  which 
God  has  given  me ;  seeing  that  this  assemblage 
or  constitution  comprises  many  things  which  per- 
tain to  the  mind  alone,  of  which  I  do  not  here  intend 
to  speak  while  speaking  of  nature  ;  as,  for  example, 
the  notion  which  I  have  of  this  truth,  that  what 
has  once  been  done  can  no  longer  be  as  not  hav- 
ing been  done,  and  a  multitude  of  others  like  it, 
which  I  know  by  the  natural  light  without  the  aid  of 
the  body  ;  and  that  it  comprises,  also,  many  others 
which  belong  to  body  alone,  and  are  not  here  con- 
tained under  the  term  nature — as  the  quality  it  has 
of  being  heavy,  and  many  others  similar  ;  of  which, 
also,  I  do  not  speak,  but  solely  of  the  things  which 


182  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

God  has  given  me  as  being  composed  of  mind  and 
body. 

But  this  nature  teaches  me,  indeed,  to  avoid  the 
things  which  cause  in  me  the  sensation  of  pain  and 
carries  me  toward  those  which  make  me  have  some 
pleasurable  sensation  ;  but  I  do  not  see  that  beyond 
this  it  teaches  me  that,  from  these  divers  perceptions 
of  the  senses,  we  ought  ever  to  conclude  anything  in 
respect  to  the  things  which  are  external  to  us,  unless 
the  mind  has  carefully  and  maturely  considered  them  ; 
for,  it  seems  to  me,  it  pertains  to  the  mind  alone,  and 
not  to  the  mind  as  blended  with  the  body,  to  know 
the  truth  of  these  things. 

Thus,  although  a  star  makes  no  greater  impression 
upon  my  eye  than  the  flame  of  a  candle,  there  is, 
nevertheless,  in  me  no  faculty,  real  or  natural,  which 
leads  me  to  believe  that  it  is  not  greater  than  this 
flame,  but  I  have  judged  it  to  be  so  from  my  earliest 
years  without  rational  grounds.  And  although  in  ap- 
proaching fire  I  feel  the  heat,  and  also  by  drawing  a 
little  nearer  to  it  I  feel  pain,  there  is,  nevertheless,  no 
reason  which  could  persuade  me  that  there  is  anything 
in  the  fire  resembling  this  heat,  any  more  than  this 
pain  ;  but,  merely,  I  have  reason  to  believe  that  there 
is  something  in  it,  whatever  it  may  be,  which  excites 
in  me  these  sensations  of  heat  or  pain.  Likewise, 
although  there  may  be  spaces  in  which  I  do  not  find 
anything  which  excites  and  stirs  my  senses,  I  ought 
not,  on  that  account,  to  conclude  that  these  spaces 
contain  no  bodies  within  them  ;  but  I  see  that  in  this, 
as  in  many  other  things  similar,  I  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  perverting  and  confounding  the  order  of 
nature,  because  these  sensations,  or  perceptions  of  the 
senses,  having  been  put  in  me  merely  to  indicate  to 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  183 

my  mind  what  things  are  beneficial  or  harmful  to  the 
composite  whole  of  which  it  is  a  part,  and  being  for 
that  purpose  sufficiently  clear  and  distinct,  I  have 
nevertheless  made  use  of  them  as  if  they  were  very 
certain  rules,  whereby  I  might  immediately  know  the 
essence  and  the  nature  of  bodies  outside  of  me,  con- 
cerning which,  notwithstanding,  they  can  teach  me 
nothing  except  very  obscurely  and  confusedly 

Beginning  then  this  inquiry,  I  observe  in  the  first 
place  that  there  is  a  great  difference  between  the  mind 
and  the  body,  in  that  the  body,  from  its  nature,  is 
always  divisible,  while  the  mind  is  entirely  indivisible. 
For  in  truth,  when  I  consider  it,  that  is  to  say,  when  I 
consider  myself,  in  so  far  as  I  am  simply  a  thing  which 
thinks,  I  cannot  distinguish  within  me  any  parts,  but 
I  know  and  conceive  very  clearly  that  I  am  a  thing 
absolutely  one  and  entire.  And  although  the  entire 
mind  seems  to  be  united  to  the  entire  body,  neverthe- 
less, whenever  a  foot,  or  an  arm,  or  any  other  part  has 
been  separated  from  it,  I  know  very  well  that  nothing 
for  that  reason  has  been  cut  off  from  my  mind.  And 
the  faculties  of  willing,  of  feeling,  of  conceiving,  etc., 
can  not  properly  be  called  its  parts  ;  for  it  is  the  same 
mind  which  is  active  as  one  whole  in  willing,  and  as 
one  whole  in  feeling  and  in  conceiving,  etc. 

But  quite  the  contrary  is  the  case  with  things  cor- 
poreal or  extended,  for  I  cannot  imagine  any  one  of 
them,  however  small  it  may  be,  that  I  could  not  easily 
take  to  pieces  in  my  thought,  or  that  my  mind  could 
not  readily  divide  into  many  parts,  and,  consequently, 
that  I  should  not  know  to  be  divisible.  This  is  suffi- 
cient to  teach  me  that  the  mind  or  soul  of  man  is  en- 
tirely different  from  the  body,  if  I  had  not  already 
learned  this  truth  well  enough  from  other  sources. 


184  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

I  observe,  also,  that  the  mind  does  not  receive  im- 
mediately impressions  from  all  parts  of  the  body,  but 
solely  from  the  brain,  or  perhaps  even  from  one  of  its 
smallest  parts,  to  wit,  from  that  where  it  exercises  this 
faculty  which  it  calls  the  common  sense,  which,  when- 
ever it  is  disposed  in  the  same  way,  causes  the  mind  to 
perceive  the  same  thing,  although,  nevertheless,  the 
other  parts  of  the  body  may  be  differently  disposed, 
as  testify  a  multitude  of  experiences  which  there  is 
no  need  here  to  recount. 

I  observe,  further,  that  the  nature  of  the  body  is 
such  that  no  one  of  its  parts  can  be  moved  by  another 
part  a  little  remote  from  it,  except  as  it  might  be 
moved,  in  the  same  way,  by  each  of  the  parts  which 
are  between  the  two,  although  the  most  distant  part 
did  not  act.  As  for  example,  in  the  cord  A  B  C  D, 
which  is  completely  tense,  if  one  should  draw  and 
move  the  last  part,  D,  the  first,  A,  will  not  be  moved 
any  otherwise  than  it  would  be  if  one  of  the  middle 
parts,  B  or  C,  were  drawn,  while  the  last,  D,  remained 
unmoved. 

In  the  same  way,  when  I  feel  pain  in  the  foot 
physics  teaches  me  that  this  sensation  communicates 
itself  by  means  of  the  nerves  spread  through  the  foot, 
which,  being  stretched  like  cords  from  that  point  up 
to  the  brain,  whenever  they  are  excited  in  the  foot, 
excite  also  at  the  same  time  that  part  of  the  brain  from 
whence  they  come  and  at  which  they  terminate,  and 
cause  there  a  certain  motion  which  nature  has  insti- 
tuted for  the  purpose*  of  making  the  pain  to  be  felt 
by  the  mind,  as  if  this  pain  were  in  the  foot  ;  but  be- 
cause these  nerves  must  pass  through  the  shank,  the 

*  Note  the  admission  of  final  cause,  which  Descartes  excludes 
from  his  philosophy.  See  above,  p.  149  n. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  185 

thigh,  the  loins,  the  back,  and  the  neck,  in  order  to 
reach  from  the  foot  to  the  brain,  it  may  happen  that 
although  their  extremities  in  the  foot  may  not  be 
moved,  but  merely  some  of  their  parts  which  pass 
through  the  loins  or  the  neck,  that  nevertheless  excites 
the  same  motions  in  the  brain  which  would  be  excited 
there  by  a  wound  received  in  the  foot ;  in  consequence 
of  which  the  mind  will  necessarily  feel  a  pain  in  the 
foot  just  as  it  would  had  there  been  an  injury  there  ; 
and  we  must  judge  the  same  to  be  true  of  all  the 
other  perceptions  of  our  senses. 

Finally  I  observe  that»since  each  one  of  the  motions 
which  are  made  in  that  part  of  the  brain  where  the 
mind  immediately  receives  the  impression  can  make 
it  sensible  of  but  a  single  sensation,  nothing  better  can 
be  desired  or  imagined  than  that  this  motion  should 
cause  the  mind  to  feel,  among  all  the  sensations  which 
it  is  capable  of  causing,  that  one  which  is  the  most 
suitable  and  the  most  commonly  useful  to  the  preser- 
vation of  the  human  body  when  it  is  in  full  health. 
But  experience  teaches  us  that  all  the  sensations 
which  nature  has  bestowed  upon  us  are  such  as  I  have 
just  described,  and  accordingly  there  is  nothing  to  be 
found  in  them  which  would  not  make  manifest  the 
power  and  the  goodness  of  God.  Thus,  for  example, 
when  the  nerves  which  are  in  the  foot  are  violently 
and  extraordinarily  disturbed,  their  motion,  passing 
through  the  spinal  marrow  to  the  brain,  makes  there 
an  impression  on  the  mind  which  causes  it  to  feel 
something  ;  to  wit,  a  pain  as  being  in  the  foot,  whereby 
the  mind  is  warned  and  aroused  to  do  its  utmost  to 
drive  away  the  cause  of  it,  as  being  very  dangerous 
and  injurious  to  the  foot.  It  is  true  that  God  might 
have  so  constituted  the  nature  of  man  that  this  same 


l86  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

motion  in  the  brain  might  have  caused  something 
quite  different  to  be  felt  by  the  mind  ;  for  example, 
that  it  should  have  caused  it  to  feel  itself,  either  in  so 
far  as  it  is  in  the  brain,  or  as  it  is  in  the  foot,  or,  in- 
deed, as  it  is  in  any  place  between  the  foot  and  the 
brain,  or,  finally,  something  else,  whatever  it  might  be, 
but  nothing  of  all  that  could  so  well  have  contributed 
to  the  preservation  of  the  body  as  that  which  it  does 
cause  it  to  feel. 

Likewise,  when  we  need  to  drink,  there  arises  there- 
from a  certain  dryness  in  the  throat  which  sets  its 
nerves  in  motion,  and  by  means  of  them  the  interior 
parts  of  the  brain  ;  and  this  motion  causes  the  sensa- 
tion of  thirst  to  be  felt  in  the  mind,  because,  under 
those  circumstances,  there  is  nothing  which  can  be 
more  useful  for  us  to  know  than  that  for  the  preser- 
vation of  our  health  we  need  to  drink  ;  and  so  of  the 
rest. 

Whence  it  is  quite  plain  that,  notwithstanding  the 
sovereign  goodness  of  God,  the  nature  of  man,  in  so 
far  as  it  is  composed  of  mind  and  body,  cannot  but  be 
sometimes  misleading  and  deceptive.  For  if  there  is 
any  cause  which  excites  not  in  the  foot,  but  in  some 
part  of  the  nerve  which  extends  from  the  foot  to  the 
brain,  or  even  within  the  brain,  the  same  motion  which 
it  ordinarily  causes  when  something  is  the  matter  with 
the  foot,  pain  will  be  felt  as  if  it  were  in  the  foot,  and 
the  sense  will  naturally  be  deceived  ;  because  the  same 
motion  in  the  brain  being  able  to  cause  only  the  same 
sensation  in  the  mind,  and  this  sensation  being 
oftener  excited  by  a  cause  which  injures  the  foot  than 
by  another  which  may  be  felt  elsewhere,  it  is  much 
more  reasonable  that  it  carry  to  the  mind  pain  of  the 
foot  than  that  of  any  other  part. 


METAPHYSICS]  MEDITATIONS.  187 

And  if  it  happen  that  sometimes  dryness  of  the 
throat  does  not  proceed,  as  ordinarily,  from  the  fact 
that  drink  is  needed  for  the  health  of  the  body,  but 
from  some  cause  quite  opposite,  as  happens  to  those 
who  are  dropsical,  nevertheless  it  is  much  better  that 
it  deceive  in  this  condition,  than  it  would  be  if  it 
should  deceive  always  when  the  body  is  in  health;  and 
so  of  the  rest.  And  certainly  this  consideration  is  of 
great  service  to  me,  not  only  for  recognizing  all  the 
errors  to  which  my  nature  is  subject,  but,  also,  for  the 
more  easy  avoidance  or  correction  of  them,  because, 
knowing  that  all  my  senses  indicate  more  commonly 
what  is  true  than  what  is  false  in  respect  to  the  things 
which  are  favorable  or  unfavorable  to  the  body,  and 
being  almost  always  able  to  make  use  of  several  of 
them  to  examine  the  same  thing,  and  besides  that,  be- 
ing able  to  use  my  memory  to  connect  present  knowl- 
edge with  past,  and  my  understanding,  which  has  al- 
ready discovered  all  the  causes  of  my  errors,  I  ought 
not  henceforward  to  fear  to  meet  with  falsity  in  the 
things  which  are  most  commonly  presented  by  my 
senses. 

And  all  the  doubts  of  these  past  days  I  ought  to 
reject  as  absurd  and  ridiculous,  and  particularly  that 
uncertainty  in  general  about  sleep,  and  my  not  being 
able  to  distinguish  the  state  of  being  awake  ;  for  now 
I  find  a  most  notable  difference,  in  that  our  memory 
can  never  bind  and  join  together  our  dreams  one  with 
another,  and  with  the  whole  course  of  our  life,  as  it  is 
accustomed  to  join  together  the  things  which  happen 
to  us  while  we  are  awake.  And,  in  truth,  if  anyone, 
when  I  am  awake,  should  appear  all  of  a  sudden  and 
disappear  in  the  same  way  as  do  the  phantoms  which 
I  see  when  I  am  asleep,  so  that  I  could  not  tell  whence 


l88  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

he  came  or  whither  he  went,  it  would  not  be  without 
reason  if  I  thought  him  a  specter  or  a  phantom  fash- 
ioned within  my  brain,  and  like  those  which  are  formed 
there  when  I  am  asleep,  rather  than  a  real  man. 

But  when  I  perceive  things  of  which  I  know  dis- 
tinctly both  the  place  whence  they  come  and  where 
they  are,  and  the  time  at  which  they  appear  to  me, 
and  am  able,  without  any  break,  to  connect  the  per- 
ception which  I  have  of  them  with  the  remaining 
course  of  my  life,  I  am  perfectly  certain  that  I  per- 
ceive them  being  awake,  and  not  in  my  sleep,  and  I 
ought  not  in  any  manner  to  doubt  the  truth  of  these 
things  if,  after  I  have  summoned  all  my  senses,  my 
memory,  and  my  understanding,  to  the  examination 
of  them,  there  is  nothing  reported  to  me  by  any  of 
them  which  disagrees  with  what  is  reported  to  me  by 
the  rest.  Because,  from  the  fact  that  God  is  no  de- 
ceiver, it  follows  necessarily  that  I  am  not  deceived  in 
this.  But  because  exigency  of  circumstances  often 
obliges  us  to  decide  before  we  have  had  the  leisure  to 
examine  so  carefully,  it  must  be  admitted  that  human 
life  is  liable  to  very  frequent  mistakes  in  particular 
instances ;  and,  in  fine,  the  infirmity  and  weakness  of 
our  nature  must  be  confessed. 


SELECTIONS 

FROM   THE    PRINCIPLES    OF   PHILOSO- 
PHY,     TRANSLATED      FROM      THE 
LATIN  :   OPERA  PHILOSOPHICA, 
EDITIO    ULTIMA,  AMSTELO- 
DAMI,     APUD      DANIE- 
LEM  ELZEVIRIUM, 
MDCLXXVII. 


PRINCIPLES  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

PART    FIRST.* 

....  THERE  are  very  many  persons  who  never  in 
their  whole  life  perceive  anything  so  correctly  as  to 
warrant  a  certain  judgment  upon  it.  For,  in  order  that 
a  certain  and  incontestable  judgment  may  be  based 
upon  the  perception  of  anything,  it  is  requisite  that 
the  perception  be  not  only  clear  but  distinct.  I  call 
a  perception  clear  which  is  present  and  manifest 
to  an  attentive  mind  ;  just  as  we  say  that  those 
things  are  clearly  seen  by  us,  which,  being  present 
to  the  gazing  eye,  affect  it  with  sufficient  strength 
and  plainness.  But  I  call  a  perception  distinct  which, 
while  it  is  clear,  is  also  so  separated  and  distinguished 
from  all  others  that  it  plainly  contains  nothing  but 
what  is  clear. 

Thus,  when  anyone  feels  any  great  pain,  this  per- 
ception of  pain  is,  indeed,  most  clear  to  him,  but  it  is 
not  always  distinct,  for  men  usually  confound  it  with 
an  obscure  judgment  of  their  own  concerning  the 
nature  of  something  in  the  part  affected  which  they 
think  to  be  similar  to  the  feeling  of  the  pain  which 
alone  they  clearly  perceive.  And  thus  a  perception 
may  be  clear  which  is  not  distinct,  but  no  perception 
can  be  distinct  which  is  not  clear. 

But,  indeed,  in  our  earliest  years  the  mind  was  so 

*  §§  45-7°-  Translated  from  the  Latin  :  Opera  Philosoph- 
ica,  editio  ultima,  Amstelodami,  Apud  Danielem  Elzevirium, 
MDCLXXVII. 


IQ2  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

immersed  in  the  body  that  although  it  perceived  many 
things  clearly  it  did  not  perceive  anything  distinctly  ; 
and  as,  nevertheless,  it  formed  its  judgments  con- 
cerning many  things,  we  imbibed  many  prejudices 
which,  in  the  case  of  many  persons,  never  afterward 
have  been  laid  aside.  In  order  that  we  may  be  able 
to  free  ourselves  from  these,  I  will  make  a  complete 
enumeration  of  all  the  simple  notions  of  which  our 
thoughts  are  composed,  and  will  distinguish  what  in 
each  is  clear  and  what  is  obscure,  or  in  what  we  may 
err. 

Whatever  falls  under  our  perceptions  we  consider 
as  being  either  things  or  certain  affections  of  things, 
or  as  being  eternal  truths  having  no  existence  beyond 
our  thought.  Among  those  which  we  consider  as 
things,  the  most  general  notions  of  them  are  substance, 
duration,  order,  number,  and  any  others  of  this  sort 
which  relate  to  all  classes  of  things.  But  I  recognize 
only  two  highest  classes  \sumtna  genera]  of  things  ; 
one  is  of  things  intellectual,  or  having  the  power  of 
thought,  that  is,  pertaining  to  mind  or  the  thinking 
substance  ;  the  other  of  material  things,  or  which 
pertain  to  extended  substance,  that  is,  to  body.  Per- 
ception, volition,  and  all  modes  both  of  perceiving 
and  of  willing,  are  referred  to  thinking  substance  ; 
but  to  extended  substances  [are  referred]  magnitude 
— or  extension  in  length,  breadth,  and  depth — figure, 
motion,  position,  divisibility  of  parts,  and  such  like. 
But  there  are  certain  other  modes  also,  which  we  ex- 
perience in  ourselves,  which  are  to  be  referred  neither 
to  the  mind  alone,  nor  yet  to  the  body  alone,  but  arise 
from  the  close  and  intimate  union  of  our  mind  with  the 
body,  namely  the  appetites  of  hunger,  thirst,  etc., 
likewise  emotions,  or  passions  of  the  mind,  which 


METAPHYSICS]  PRINCIPLES.  193 

consist  not  in  thought  alone,  as  the  emotions  of 
anger,  joy,  sadness,  love,  etc.,  and  finally,  all  sensa- 
tions, as  of  pain,  pleasure,  of  light  and  colors,  sounds, 
odors,  tastes,  heat,  hardness,  and  other  tangible 
qualities. 

And  all  these  we  consider  as  things  or  qualities  or 
modes  of  things.  But  when  we  recognize  anything  as 
being  impossible,  as  that  something  should  arise  from 
nothing,  then  this  proposition,  Ex  nihilo  nihil  fit,  is 
considered  not  as  an  existing  thing,  nor  yet  as  a  mode 
of  a  thing,  but  as  a  certain  eternal  truth  which  has  its 
seat  in  our  mind,  and  is  called  a  common  notion,  or 
axiom.*  Of  this  sort  are  :  It  is  impossible  that  the 
same  thing  should  at  once  be  and  not  be  ;  Whatever 
has  been  done  cannot  be  not  done  ;  He  who  thinks 
cannot  be  non-existent  while  he  thinks  ;  and  innumer- 
able others  which,  indeed,  cannot  all  be  easily  enumer- 
ated, but  neither  can  they  be  ignored,  whenever  the 
occasion  arises  that  we  think  of  them,  and  are  blinded 
by  no  prejudices. 

And,  indeed,  as  respects  these  common  notions,  there 
is  no  doubt  but  that  they  can  be  clearly  and  distinctly 
perceived,  for  otherwise  they  could  not  be  called  com- 
mon notions  ;  although  it  is  true  that  certain  of  them 
do  not  merit  that  title  in  regard  to  all  men,  because 
they  are  not  equally  perceived  by  all.  Not,  however, 
as  I  think,  because  the  knowing  faculty  of  one  man 
has  wider  range  than  that  of  another  ;  but  because 
these  common  notions  happen  to  be  opposed  to  the 
pre-formed  opinions  of  some  men  who,  for  that  reason, 
cannot  easily  grasp  them  ;  while  others,  who  are 

*  For  a  list  of  such  axioms  (10  in  all)  see  Geom.  proof,  Axioms 
or  Common  Notions,  in  Reply  to  2d  Obj.,  (Euvres,  t.  i,  pp.  458- 
460  ;  Veitch's  Descartes,  p.  270. 


19$  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

free  from  these  prejudices,  perceive  them  most 
plainly.* 

In  respect  to  what  we  regard  either  as  things  or  as 
modes  of  things,  it  is  worth  while  to  consider  each  in 
succession.  By  substance  we^an  understand  nothing 
else  than  a  thing  which  so  exists  that  it  needs  no 
other  t h i ng  in^o r d e r  to  exist.  And,  indeed,  the  suB- 
stance  which  evidently  needs  no  other  thing  can  be 
thought  of  as  being  one^only,  namely,  God.f  But  all 
others  we  perceive  can  exist  only  by  the  help  of  the 
concourse  of  God.J  And  therefore  the  name,  sub- 
stance, cannot  belong  to  God  and  to  them  univocally, 
as  they  say  in  the  schools,  that  is,  no  signification  of 
this  name  can  be  distinctly  understood  as  common 
to  God  and  to  creatures. 

But  corporeal  substance  and  mind,  or  thinking 
substance,  as  created,  can  be  comprehended  under 
this  common  conception,  because  they  are  things 
which  require  only  the  concourse  of  God  for  their 
existence.  Nevertheless,  substance  cannot  be  first 
known  by  this  alone — that  a  thing  exists  ;  because 
this  by  itself  alone  does  not  affect  us  ;  but  we  easily 
recognize  it  by  any  one  of  its  attributes,  through 
that  common  notion  that  nothing  can  have  no  attri- 
butes or  properties  or  qualities.  For  from  this,  that 
we  perceive  some  attribute  to  be  present,  we  conclude 
some  existing  thing,  or  substance,  to  which  that  can 
be  attributed,  to  be  necessarily  present  also. 

And  indeed,  from  any  attribute  whatever,  a  sub- 
stance can  be  recognized  ;  but,  nevertheless,  there  is  of 

*  Cf.  Hobbes'  objection  and  Descartes'  reply  (Med.  iv,  302),  Obj. 
et  Rep.,  (Euvres,  i,  p.  496.     See  above,  p.  154  n. 
f  Ueus  est  substantia  una  et  unica — Spinoza. 
|  Occasionalism — Geulincx. 


METAPHYSICS]  PRINCIPLES.  195 

any  substance  one  principal  property,  which  consti- 
tutes its  nature  and  essence,  and  to  which  all  the  rest 
are  related  ;  namely,  extension  in  length,  breadth,  and 
depth  constitutes  the  nature  of  corporeal  substance  ; 
and  thought  constitutes^  tHe  nature  of  thinking  sub^ 
"stance.  For  everything  else  which  can  be  attributed 
to  body  presupposes  extension,  and  is  only  a  certain 
mode  of  an  extended  thing  ;  as,  also,  all  that  we  can 
discover  in  mind  are  only  divers  modes  of  thinking. 
Thus,  for  example,  figure  cannot  be  understood  except 
in  an  extended  thing,  nor  motion  except  in  a  space 
extended  ;  nor  imagination,  nor  sense,  nor  will,  except 
in  a  thinking  thing.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  exten- 
sion can  be  understood  without  figure  or  motion,  and 
thought  without  imagination,  or  sense,  and  so  of  the 
rest  ;  as  is  plain  to  anyone  who  reflects  upon  it. 
And  thus  we  can  easily  have  two  clear  and  distinct 
notions  or  ideas,  one  of  created  thinking  substance, 
the  other  of  corporeal  substance  ;  if,  namely,  we  dis- 
tinguish accurately  all  attributes  of  thought  from 
attributes  of  extension.  So,  also,  we  can  have  a  clear 
and  distinct  idea  of  a  thinking  substance  uncreated 
and  independent,  that  is,  of  God  ;  only  we  must  not 
suppose  that  it  adequately  represents  all  that  is  in 
God,  nor  must  we  introduce  anything  fictitious,  but 
simply  attend  to  what  in  truth  is  contained  in  it,  and 
what  we  plainly  perceive  to  belong  to  the  nature  of  a 
being  supremely  perfect.  And  surely  no  one  can 
deny  that  such  an  idea  of  God  exists  within  us,  unless 
he  thinks  that  there  is  no  knowledge  of  God  whatever 
in  human  minds. 

Duration,  order,  and  number  are  also  most  dis- 
tinctly known  by  us,  provided  we  assign  to  them  no 
conception  of  substance,  but  think  the  duration  of 


ig6  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

anything  to  be  merely  a  mode  under  which  we  con- 
ceive this  thing,  in  so  far  as  it  continues  to  exist. 
And  in  a  similar  way  we  are  to  conceive  of  order  and 
number  as  not  being  anything  distinct  from  things 
ordered  and  numbered,  but  as  being  merely  modes 
under  which  we  consider  them. 

And,  indeed,  here  we  are  to  understand  by  modes 
what  elsewhere  we  mean  by  attributes  or  qualities. 
But  when  we  consider  substance  to  be  affected  or 
changed  by  them,  we  call  them  modes ;  and  again, 
when  we  consider  them  more  generally,  as  simply 
existing  in  substance,  we  call  them  attributes.  There- 
fore we  say  that,  properly  speaking,  there  are  in  God 
no  modes  or  qualities,  but  attributes  only,  because 
no  variation  is  known  in  him.*  And  also,  in  cre- 
ated things,  those  characters  which  are  not  subject 
to  change,  such  as  existence  and  duration,  in  a  thing 
existing  and  enduring,  should  not  be  called  qualities 
or  modes,  but  attributes. 

But  some  of  these  are  in  things  themselves,  of  which 
they  are  said  to  be  attributes  or  modes  ;  others  in  our 
thought  only.  Thus,  when  we  distinguish  time  from 
duration  taken  generally,  and  say  that  it  is  the  num- 
ber of  motion,  it  is  merely  a  mode  of  our  thought ; 
nor  do  we  know,  Indeed,  any  other  duration  in  mo- 
tion than  in  things  not  moved  ;  as  is  evident  from 
this,  that,  if  two  bodies  are  moved,  one  slowly,  the 
other  swiftly,  for  an  hour,  we  count  no  more  time  in 
one  than  in  the  other,  although  there  is  much  more 
motion.  But  in  order  to  measure  the  duration  of  all 
things,  we  compare  it  with  the  duration  of  those 
greatest  and  in  the  highest  degree  equable  motions 
by  which  the  years  and  days  arise  ;  and  this  duration 
*  Cf.  Spinoza's  views  of  attribute  and  mode.  See  above,  p.  29 


METAPHYSICS]  PRINCIPLES.  197 

we  call  time,  which,  accordingly,  is  nothing  super- 
added  to  duration  taken  generally,  but  a  mode  of 
thought.* 

So  also  number,  when  considered  not  in  any  created 
things,  but  only  in  the  abstract  or  in  kind,  is  a  mode 
of  thought  only ;  so  are  all  other  notions  which  we 
call  universals. 

These  universals  arise  from  this,  merely,  that  we 
use  one  and  the  same  idea  in  thinking  of  all  the  indi- 
viduals which  are  similar  among  themselves  ;  as  also 
we  impose  one  and  the  same  name  upon  all  the  things 
represented  by  this  idea,  which  name  is  a  universal. 
Thus,  when  we  see  two  stones,  and  do  not  attend  to 
their  nature,  but  to  this  only  that  they  are  two,  we 
form  an  idea  of  that  number  which  we  call  the  binary ; 
and  when  afterward  we  see  two  birds  or  two  trees, 
and  do  not  consider  their  nature,  but  only  that  they 
are  two,  we  repeat  the  same  idea  as  before,  which, 
accordingly,  is  a  universal,  and  we  call  this  number  by 
the  same  universal  name,  binary.  In  the  same  man- 
ner, when  we  consider  a  figure  bounded  by  three 
lines,  we  form  a  certain  idea  of  it,  which  we  call  tri- 
angle ;  and  we  use  this  afterward  as  a  universal  to 
represent  to  our  mind  all  other  figures  bounded  by 
three  lines.  And  when  we  observe  among  triangles 
that  some  have  one  right  angle  and  others  have  not, 
we  form  a  universal  idea  of  right-angled  triangles, 
which,  being  related  to  the  preceding  as  more  general, 
is  called  a  species;  and  this  character  of  being  right- 
angled  is  the  universal  difference  by  which  all  right- 
angled  triangles  are  distinguished  from  others  ;  and 
that  in  these  the  square  of  the  base  is  equal  to  the 
square  of  the  sides  is  a  property  belonging  to  all  of 
*  See  above,  p.  34. 


198  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  II 

them,  and  to  them  only ;  and  finally,  if  we  suppose 
some  triangles  of  this  sort  to  be  in  motion,  and  others 
not  to  be  moved,  this  will  be  in  them  a  universal  acci- 
dent. And  in  this  way  there  are  commonly  reckoned 
five  universals,  genus,  species,  difference,  property, 
and  accident. 

But  number  arises  in  things  themselves  from  distinc- 
tion in  regard  to  them,  which  distinction  is  threefold  : 
real,  modal,  and  logical.  The  real  properly  exists  only 
between  two  or  more  substances,  and  these  we  perceive 
to  be  really  mutually  distinct  in  themselves  by  this 
alone,  that  we  are  able  to  know  one  from  the  other 
clearly  and  distinctly.  For,  knowing  God,  we  are  cer- 
tain that  he  can  bring  to  pass  whatever  we  distinctly 
know,  so  that,  for  example,  from  this  alone,  that  we 
have  the  idea  of  extended  or  corporeal  substance,  al- 
though we  do  not  yet  certainly  know  that  any  such 
substance  really  exists,  nevertheless  we  are  certain 
that  it  can  exist,  and,  if  it  exist,  every  part  of  it  dis- 
tinguished by  us  in  thought  is  in  reality  distinct  from 
the  other  parts  of  the  same  substance.  Likewise, 
from  this  alone,  that  each  one  of  us  knows  himself 
to  be  a  thinking  thing,  and  is  able  in  thought  to 
exclude  from  himself  every  other  substance,  both 
thinking  and  extended,  it  is  certain  that  everyone, 
so  regarded,  is  really  distinct  from  every  other  think- 
ing substance,  and  from  every  corporeal  substance. 
And  even  if  we  suppose  that  God  has  joined  in  the 
closest  manner  possible  to  such  a  thinking  substance 
a  certain  corporeal  substance,  and  so  from  these  two 
has  produced  one,  they  nevertheless  remain  really 
distinct ;  because,  however  closely  he  may  have  united 
them,  he  cannot  dispossess  himself  of  the  power  which 
he  had  before  of  separating  them,  or  of  preserving 


METAPHYSICS]  PRINCIPLES.  199 

one  without  the  other  ;  and  whatever  substances  either 
can  be  separated  by  God,  or  preserved  independently, 
are  really  distinct. 

Modal  distinction  is  twofold  ;  the  one  between  mode 
properly  so  called,  and  the  substance  of  which  it  is 
the  mode  ;  the  other  between  two  modes  of  the  same 
substance.  The  former  is  known  by  this,  that  we  can 
clearly  perceive  a  substance  indeed  without  a  mode, 
which  we  say  is  distinct  from  it,  but  we  cannot,  vice 
versa,  comprehend  that  mode  without  the  substance. 
So  figure  and  motion  are  distinguished  modalty  from 
corporeal  substance,  to  which  they  belong  ;  so  also 
an  affirmation  and  a  recollection,  from  the  mind.  But 
the  latter  is  known  from  this,  that  we  can  indeed 
apprehend  one  motion  apart  from  another,  and  vice 
versa,  but  neither  apart  from  the  substance  to  which 
they  belong  ;  as,  if  a  stone  be  moved,  and  be  square, 
I  can,  indeed,  apprehend  its  square  figure  without  its 
motion  ;  and,  vice  versa,  its  motion  without  its  square 
figure ;  but  neither  that  motion  nor  that  square  fig- 
ure can  I  apprehend  without  the  substance  of  the 
stone.  But  the  distinction  whereby  the  mode  of  one 
substance  differs  from  another  substance,  or  from  a 
mode  of  another  substance,  as  the  motion  of  one  body 
from  another  body,  or  from  the  mind,  and  motion  from 
doubt,  would  seem  to  be  properly  called  real  rather 
than  modal,  because  those  modes  are  not  clearly 
known  apart  from  substances  really  distinct,  of  which 
they  are  modes. 

Finally,  distinction  of  reason  exists  between  sub- 
stance and  any  attribute  of  it  without  which  the  sub- 
stance itself  cannot  be  known  ;  on  between  two  such 
attributes  of  the  same  substance.  And  it  is  recog- 
nized by  this,  that  we  cannot  form  a  clear  and 


20O  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  II 

distinct  idea  of  the  substance  itself  if  we  exclude 
from  it  that  attribute  ;  or  that  we  cannot  clearly  appre- 
hend the  idea  of  one  of  its  attributes  if  we  separate 
that  one  from  another.  Inasmuch  as  any  substance 
whatever,  if  it  cease  to  endure,  ceases  also  to 
exist,  it  is  distinguished  from  its  own  duration  by 
intellect  only.  And  all  modes  of  thinking,  which  we 
regard  as  if  they  were  in  objects,  differ  only  for  the 
intellect,  now  from  the  objects  concerning  which  they 
are  thought,  and  now  from  one  another  in  one  and  the 
same  object.  I  remember,  indeed,  that  I  have  else- 
where conjoined  this  sort  of  distinction  with  the 
modal  ;  namely,  at  the  end  of  the  Reply  to  the  First 
Objections  in  the  Meditations  on  the  First  Philos- 
ophy ;  but  in  that  case  there  was  no  occasion  for  ac- 
curate distinction  of  them,  and  it  was  sufficient  to  my 
purpose  to  distinguish  both  from  the  real. 

Thought  and  extension  may  be  regarded  as  consti- 
tuting the  nature  of  substance,  intelligent  and  cor- 
poreal ;  and  accordingly  they  should  not  be  otherwise 
conceived  than  as  the  thinking  substance  itself  and 
the  corporeal  substance,  that  is,  as  mind  and  body  ; 
thus  we  know  them  most  clearly  and  most  distinctly. 
Moreover,  we  know  extended  substance  or  thinking 
substance  more  easily  than  substance  alone,  abstract- 
ing the  quality  that  it  thinks  or  is  extended.  For 
there  is  some  difficulty  in  abstracting  the  notion  of 
substance  from  the  notions  of  thought  and  ex- 
tension, which,  indeed,  are  diverse  from  it  only  by 
this  very  reason  ;  *  and  a  conception  does  not  become 
more  distinct,  because  we  comprehend  in  it  fewer 
things,  but  only  because  the  things  which  we  do  com- 

*  Namely,  that  we  thus  mentally  abstract  them  from  substance  ; 
in  reality  they  are  inseparable  from  substance. 


METAPHYSICS]  PRINCIPLES.  201 

prehend  in  it  we  distinguish  accurately  from  all  the 
rest. 

Thought  and  extension  may  be  taken  as  modes  of 
substance  in  so  far,  indeed,  as  one  and  the  same 
mind  may  have  many  different  thoughts  ;  and  one 
and  the  same  body,  while  retaining  the  same  magni- 
tude, may  be  extended  in  many  different  modes  ;  now 
more  in  length,  and  less  in  breadth  or  depth,  and 
again,  on  the  contrary,  more  in  breadth  and  less  in 
length.  And  then  they  are  distinguished  modally 
from  substance,  and  may  be  known  not  less  clearly 
and  distinctly  than  [substance]  itself ;  only  they  are 
not  to  be  regarded  as  substances,  or  things  separate 
from  others,  but  solely  as  modes  of  things.  For  it 
is  by  considering  them  as  being  in  the  substances 
of  which  they  are  the  modes,  that  we  distinguish 
them  from  those  substances  and  know  them  as  they 
really  are.  But,  on  the  contrary,  if  we  choose  to  con- 
sider them  as  existing  apart  from  the  substances  in 
which  they  inhere,  by  this  very  fact  we  regard  them 
as  things  subsistent  [by  themselves]  and  thus  con- 
found the  ideas  of  mode  and  substance. 

In  the  same  way  we  shall  best  understand  the  differ- 
ent modes  of  thought,  such  as  intellection,  imagination, 
memory,  will,  etc.,  and  also  the  different  modes  of  ex- 
tension, or,  as  belonging  to  extension,  all  figures,  and 
positions  of  parts,  and  motions  of  these,  if  only  we 
regard  them  as  modes  of  the  things  in  which  they 
inhere  ;  and,  as  respects  motion,  [we  shall  best  un- 
stand  it]  if  we  consider  none  but  local  motion  and 
force,  if  we  do  not  inquire  what  excites  it  (which, 
however,  I  shall  attempt  to  explain  in  its  proper  place). 

There  remain  the  senses,  the  affections,  the  appe- 
tites, which  also  can  be  clearly  understood  if  we  care- 


202  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  II 

fully  avoid  passing  any  judgment  upon  them  except 
in  regard  to  precisely  that  which  is  contained  in  our 
perception  and  of  which  we  are  inwardly  conscious. 
But  this  precaution  it  is  very  difficult  to  exercise,  at 
least  in  regard  to  the  senses,  because  there  is  no  one 
of  us  who  has  not  from  infancy  judged  that  all  those 
things  which  he  perceives  are  things  existing  outside 
his  mind. and  quite  similar  to  his  sensations,  that  is  to 
say,  to  the  perceptions  which  he  has  of  them  ;  so  that 
when,  for  example,  we  see  a  color,  we  think  we  see 
something  situated  outside  of  us  and  quite  similar  to 
that  idea  of  color  of  which  we  then  have  experience 
within  ourselves  ;  and,  on  account  of  our  habit  of  so 
judging,  we  seem  to  see  this  so  clearly  and  distinctly 
that  we  hold  it  certainly  and  undoubtedly  true. 

The  same  thing  is  evident  in  respect  to  all  other 
sensations,  even  of  pleasure  and  pain.  For  although 
these  .are  not  thought  to  be  outside  of  us  :  neither  yet 
are  they  wont  to  be  regarded  as  in  the  mind  alone,  or 
in  our  perception,  but  as  in  the  hand,  or  in  the  foot, 
or  in  some  other  part  of  our  body.  Nor,  indeed,  is  it 
more  certain  when,  for  example,  we  perceive  a  pain 
as  if  in  the  foot,  that  this  is  something  existing  out- 
side our  mind  in  the  foot,  than,  when  we  see  light  as  if 
in  the  sun,  that  this  light  exists  outside  of  us  in  the 
sun  ;  but  both  these  are  prejudices  of  our  early  years, 
as  shall  clearly  be  made  apparent  below. 

But  in  order  that  we  may  distinguish  at  this  point 
what  is  clear  from  what  is  obscure,  it  is  most  carefully 
to  be  noted  that  pain,  indeed,  and  color,  and  other 
[qualities]  of  this  kind  are  clearly  and  distinctly  un- 
derstood, provided  only  they  are  regarded  as  affec- 
tions of  sense  or  as  thoughts  ;  but  when  they  are 
judged  to  be  things  existing  outside  our  minds,  we 


METAPHYSICS]  PRINCIPLES.  203 

are  able  in  no  way  to  understand  what  sort  of  things 
they  are,  and  it  is  just  the  same  when  anyone  says 
that  he  sees  in  any  body  a  color,  or  feels  in  any  mem- 
ber a  pain,  as  if  he  should  say  that  he  sees  or  feels 
there  something  of  which  he  is  quite  ignorant,  that  is, 
that  he  does  not  know  what  he  sees  or  feels.  For 
although,  if  he  attend  but  little,  he  may  easily  per- 
suade himself  that  he  has  some  notion  of  it,  from  the 
fact  that  he  supposes  it  to  be  something  similar  to 
that  sensation  of  color  or  of  pain  which  he  experi- 
ences within  himself,  yet  if  he  examine  into  the  nature 
of  that  which  this  sensation  of  color  or  of  pain  rep- 
resents to  him  as  being  in  a  colored  body,  or  as  exist- 
ing in  the  part  affected,  he  will  find  that  he  knows 
nothing  at  all  about  it. 

[This  will  be  apparent]  if  he  considers  that  he  knows 
in  a  manner  entirely  different  the  natare  of  magnitude 
in  a  visible  body,  or  of  figure,  or  motion  (at  least  of 
motion  from  place  to  place ;  for  philosophers  who 
feign  that  there  are  other  forms  of  motion  different 
from  this  have  shown  that  they  little  understood  the 
nature  of  this),  or  position,  or  duration,  or  number, 
and  the  like,  which  it  has  just  been  said  are  clearly 
perceived  in  bodies  ;  [that  he  knows  these  in  a  man- 
ner entirely  different  from  that]  in  which  he  knows 
what  in  the  same  body  color  is,  or  pain,  or  smell,  or 
taste,  or  any  of  those  [qualities]  which  are  said  to  be 
referred  to  the  senses.  For  although  in  seeing  any 
body  we  are  not  more  certain  that  it  exists  in  so  far 
as  it  appears  as  having  figure  than  as  it  appears 
colored  ;  yet  we  know  far  more  clearly  what  it  is  as 
having  figure  than  what  it  is  as  colored. 

Manifestly,  therefore,  when  we  say  that  we  per- 
ceive colors  in  objects,  it  is  in  reality  the  same  as  say- 


204  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

ing  that  we  perceive  something  in  objects,  the  nature 
of  which  we  do  not  know,  but  something  by  which 
there  is  produced  in  us  a  certain  very  clear  and  vivid 
sensation  which  is  called  a  sensation  of  color.  But  in 
the  mode  of  our  judging  there  is  a  very  great  difference, 
for  so  long  that  we  judge  only  that  there  is  something 
in  objects  (that  is,  in  things,  whatever  they  may  be, 
from  which  the  sensation  comes  to  us)  of  which  some- 
thing we  are  indeed  ignorant,  we  are  so  far  from  fall- 
ing into  error  that  on  the  other  hand  we  avoid  it,  in 
that  by  admonishing  ourselves  that  we  are  ignorant 
of  this  something  we  are  the  less  prone  to  judge 
rashly  concerning  it. 

But  when  we  think  we  perceive  colors  in  objects, 
although,  indeed,  we  are  ignorant  what  that  may  be, 
which  we  then  call  by  the  name  of  color,  nor  are  able 
to  recognize  any  similarity  between  the  color  which 
we  suppose  to  be  in  objects  and  that  which  we  experi- 
ence in  the  sense,  nevertheless,  because  we  do  not 
pay  attention  to  this  fact,  and  there  are  many  other 
things,  such  as  magnitude,  figure,  number,  etc.,  which 
we  clearly  perceive  to  be  felt  or  understood  by  us  not 
otherwise  than  as  they  are,  or,  at  least,  may  be,  in 
objects,  we  easily  lapse  into  this  error,  that  we  judge 
that  that  which  in  objects  we  call  color  is  altogether 
like  the  color  which  we  have  in  sensation,  and  so  that 
what  we  in  no  manner  perceive  we  think  we  clearly 
perceive 


THE   WORLD; 
OR,   ESSAY  ON   LIGHT. 


THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.* 

CHAPTER  I. 

Of  the  difference  between  our  sensations  and  the  things 
which  produce  them. 

PROPOSING,  as  I  do,  to  treat  of  the  nature  of  light, 
the  first  thing  of  which  I  wish  you  to  take  note  is,  that 
there  may  be  a  difference  between  the  sensation 
which  we  have  in  ourselves,  that  is  to  say,  the  idea 
which  is  formed  within  our  imagination  by  the  help 
of  our  eyes,  and  that  which  exists  in  the  objects  that 
produce  within  us  the  sensation,  namely,  that  which 
exists  in  the  flame,  or  in  the  sun,  and  is  called  by  the 
name  of  light  ;  because,  although  everyone  is  com- 
monly persuaded  that  the  ideas  that  we  have  in  our 
thought  are  altogether  similar  to  the  objects  whence 
they  proceed,  I  see  no  reason,  nevertheless,  to  assure 
us  that  this  is  true  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  I  observe 
many  facts  which  should  incline  us  to  question  it. 

You  know  that  words,  while  having  no  resemblance 
to  the  things  which  they  signify,  do  not  fail  to  make 
them  intelligible  to  us,  and  often,  even  without  our 
paying  attention  to  the  sound  of  the  words,  or  to 
their  syllables  ;  so  that  it  may  happen  that  after  having 
listened  to  a  discourse,  the  meaning  of  which  we  have 

*  This  is  a  fragment  of  the  Treatise  referred  to  in  the  Discourse 
on  Method  as  having  been  suppressed  by  the  author.    See  (Euvres, 
t.  i,  p.  168,  Veitch's  Descartes,  p.  42  ;  and  above,  pp.  10-12. 
207 


208  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

completely  understood,  we  are  not  able  to  say  in  what 
language  it  was  spoken.  But  if  words,  which  signify 
nothing  except  by  human  institution,  are  capable  of 
making  conceivable  for  us  things  to  which  they  have 
no  resemblance,  why  may  not  nature  also  have  estab- 
lished a  certain  sign  which  should  make  us  feel  the 
sensation  of  light,  although  this  sign  should  have 
nothing  in  itself  resembling  sensation  ?  Has  she 
not  thus  appointed  laughter  and  tears  to  make  us 
read  joy  and  sadness  in  the  human  countenance? 

But  you  will  say,  perhaps,  that  our  ears  make  us 
perceive  in  reality  merely  the  sound  of  the  words,  and 
our  eyes  only  the  face  of  him  who  laughs  or  who 
weeps,  and  that  it  is  our  mind,  which,  having  retained 
what  these  words  and  this  countenance  signify,  rep- 
resents it  to  us  at  the  same  time.  To  that  I  may  reply 
that,  just  in  the  same  way,  it  is  our  mind  which  rep- 
resents to  us  the  idea  of  light  whenever  the  action 
which  signifies  it  touches  our  eye ;  but,  without 
wasting  time  in  dispute,  I  will  at  once  bring  forward 
another  illustration. 

Do  you  think  that  when  we  pay  no  attention  to  the 
meaning  of  words,  and  only  hear  the  sound  of  them, 
that  the  idea  of  this  sound,  which  is  formed  within 
our  thought,  is  anything  like  the  object  which  is  the 
cause  of  it  ?  A  man  opens  his  mouth,  moves  his 
tongue,  expels  his  breath;  I  see  nothing  in  all  these 
motions  which  is  not  quite  different  from  the  idea  of 
the  sound  which  they  cause  us  to  imagine.  And  most 
philosophers  assure  us  that  the  sound  is  nothing  but 
a  certain  trembling  of  the  air  which  has  just  struck 
our  ears;  so  that,  if  the  sense  of  hearing  brought  to 
our  thought  the  true  image  of  its  object,  it  would  be 
necessary,  in  place  of  making  us  conceive  the  sound, 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD  J    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  209 

that  it  should  make  us  conceive  the  motion  of  the  por- 
tions of  the  air  which  is  trembling  at  the  time  against 
our  ears.  But  because,  perhaps,  everybody  will  not 
believe  what  the  philosophers  say,  I  will  adduce  still 
another  example.  Touch  is  the  one  of  all  the  senses 
which  we  consider  the  least  deceptive  and  the  most 
trustworthy  ;  so  that,  if  I  prove  to  you  that  even  touch 
makes  us  conceive  many  ideas  which  do  not  at  all  re- 
semble the  objects  which  produce  them,  I  do  not 
think  you  ought  to  consider  it  strange  if  I  say  that 
sight  may  do  the  same. 

But  there  is  no  one  who  does  not  know  that  the  ideas 
of  pleasure  and  of  pain  which  are  formed  within  our 
thought  on  occasion  of  bodies  touching  us  externally 
have  no  resemblance  to  them.  A  person  gently  passes 
a  feather  over  the  lips  of  a  child  asleep,  and  he  per- 
ceives the  tickling;  do  you  suppose  that  the  idea  of 
the  tickling  which  he  conceives  has  any  resemblance 
to  anything  there  is  in  the  feather  ?  A  soldier  re- 
turns from  a  fight;  during  the  heat  of  the  combat  he 
might  have  been  wounded  without  perceiving  it,  but 
now  that  he  begins  to  cool  off  he  feels  pain,  he 
thinks  he  has  been  wounded;  a  surgeon  is  called,  his 
uniform  is  stripped  off,  he  is  examined,  and  at  last  it 
is  found  that  what  he  felt  was  nothing  but  a  buckle  or 
a  strap,  which,  being  twisted  underneath  his  uniform, 
pressed  upon  him  and  hurt  him.  If  his  sense  of 
touch,  while  making  him  feel  the  strap,  had  im- 
pressed the  image  of  it  on  his  thought,  he  would  not 
have  needed  a  surgeon  to  tell  him  what  he  felt. 

But  I  see  no  reason  which  obliges  us  to  think  that 
what  is  in  the  objects  from  which  the  sensation  of 
light  comes  to  us  is  any  more  like  that  sensation  than 
the  action  of  a  feather  and  a  buckle  is  like  the  tick- 


210  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  III 

ling  and  the  pain  ;  and  yet  I  have  not  adduced  these 
examples  in  order  to  make  you  believe  absolutely  that 
this  light  is  something  different  in  the  objects  from 
what  it  is  in  our  eyes,  but  simply  that  you  may  question 
it,  and  that,  being  on  your  guard  against  a  prejudice 
to  the  contrary,  you  may  now  the  better  inquire  with 
me  into  the  true  state  of  the  case. 


PHYSICS]    THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  211 


CHAPTER     II. 

///  what  the  heat  and  light  of  a  fire  consist. 

I  KNOW  only  two  kinds  of  bodies  in  the  universe  in 
which  light  is  found,  namely,  the  stars,  and  flame  or 
fire  ;  and  because  the  stars  are  without  question 
further  removed  from  the  knowledge  of  men  than  fire 
or  flame  is,  I  will  attempt  to  explain  in  the  first  place 
what  I  observe  in  respect  to  flame.  When  it  burns 
wood  or  any  similar  material,  we  can  see  at  a  glance 
that  it  removes  small  particles  of  this  wood,  and  sep- 
arates them  one  from  another,  transforming  thus  the 
finer  parts  into  fire,  into  vapor  and  smoke,  and  leaving 
the  grosser  parts  as  ashes.  Anyone  else,  if  he  pleases, 
may  imagine  in  this  wood  the  form  of  fire,  the  quality 
of  heat,  and  the  energy  which  burns  it,  as  all  different 
things  ;  as  for  me,  who  am  afraid  of  deceiving  myself 
if  I  suppose  anything  more  to  be  there  than  what  I 
see  must  necessarily  be  present,  for  my  part,  I  am 
content  with  conceiving  there  the  movement  of  its 
parts  :  because,  put  the  fire  there,  put  the  heat  there, 
and  make  it  burn  as  much  as  you  please,  if  you  do 
not  suppose,  along  with  that,  that  there  are  some  of 
its  parts  in  motion,  and  that  they  detach  themselves 
from  their  neighbors,  I  cannot  imagine  that  it  receives 
any  alteration  or  change  ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  re- 
move the  fire,  remove  the  heat,  prevent  it  from  burn- 
ing, provided  only  that  you  grant  me  that  there  is 
some  power  which  sets  in  violent  motion  its  minutest 
parts,  and  which  separates  them  from  the  grosser 


212  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

parts,  I  find  that  that  by  itself  could  effect  in  it  all 
the  changes  which  take  place  when  it  burns. 

But,  inasmuch  as  it  does  not  seem  to  me  possible  to 
conceive  that  one  body  can  move  another,  unless  it 
is  also  in  motion  itself,  I  conclude  from  this  that  the 
body  of  flame,  which  acts  upon  the  wood,  is  composed 
of  small  parts  which  are  in  motion  separately  one  from 
another,  with  a  motion  very  rapid  and  very  violent, 
and  which,  thus  moving  themselves,  push  and  move 
with  themselves  the  parts  of  the  bodies  which  they 
touch,  and  which  do  not  offer  them  too  great  resist- 
ance. I  say  that  the  parts  move  separately  one  from 
another,  because,  although  they  often  accord  and  con- 
spire, many  together,  to  produce  a  single  effect,  we 
see  nevertheless  that  each  of  them  acts  in  its  own  par- 
ticular way  upon  the  bodies  which  they  touch.  I  say, 
also,  that  their  motion  is  very  rapid  and  very  violent ; 
because,  being  too  small  for  sight  to  distinguish,  they 
would  not  have  the  force  they  do  for  acting  on  other 
bodies,  if  the  rapidity  of  their  motion  did  not  make 
up  for  the  want  of  its  extent. 

I  add  nothing  in  respect  to  the  direction  which  each 
part  takes  ;  for  if  you  consider  that  the  power  of  mov- 
ing itself,  and  that  which  determines  the  direction 
which  the  movement  shall  take,  are  two  entirely  differ- 
ent things,  one  of  which  might  exist  without  the  other 
(as  I  have  explained  in  the  second  discourse  of  the 
Dioptrics*),  you  will  readily  decide  that  each  moves 
in  the  way  that  is  made  the  least  difficult  to  it  by  the 
disposition  of  the  bodies  which  surround  it,  and 
that  in  the  same  flame  there  may  be  parts  which 
would  move  up  and  others  down,  in  a  straight  line  and 
in  a  curve,  and  in  all  directions,  without  thereby 
changing  its  nature  at  all  ;  so  that,  if  you  see  almost 
*  (Euvre s,  t.  5,  p.  17,  et  seq. 


PHYSICS]    THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  213 

all  of  them  tending  upward,  it  need  not  be  supposed 
that  this  happens  so  for  any  other  reason  than  that 
the  other  bodies  which  touch  them  are  almost  in  every 
case  disposed  to  offer  them  more  resistance  on  every 
other  side. 

But  having  taken  note  that  the  parts  of  the  flame 
move  in  this  manner,  and  that  it  is  sufficient  to  con- 
ceive its  motions  in  order  to  comprehend  how  it  has 
the  power  to  consume  wood  and  to  burn,  let  us  inquire, 
pray,  whether  the  same  [conception]  will  not  enable 
us  also  to  comprehend  how  it  warms  us  and  how  it 
illuminates  us  :  for,  if  this  should  prove  to  be  the  case, 
it  will  not  be  necessary  that  there  should  exist  in  it 
any  other  quality,  and  we  can  say  that  it  is  this  motion 
alone  which,  according  to  the  different  effects  which  it 
produces,  is  called  now  heat  and  now  light. 

But  as  concerns  the  nature  of  heat,  the  sensation 
which  we  have  of  it  may,  as  it  seems  to  me,  be  re- 
garded as  a  kind  of  pain  when  it  is  violent,  and  some- 
times as  a  kind  of  pleasure  when  it  is  moderate  ;  and 
as  we  have  said  before  that  there  is  nothing  external 
to  our  thought  which  is  like  the  ideas  that  we  conceive 
of  pleasure  and  pain,  we  can  easily  believe  also  that 
there  is  nothing  like  that  which  we  conceive  of  as 
heat,  but  that  whatever  can  put  in  motion  in  divers 
ways  the  minute  particles  of  our  hands,  or  any  other 
portion  of  our  body,  may  excite  in  us  this  sensation. 
Many  things  which  we  experience  also  favor  this  view  ; 
for,  in  simply  rubbing  the  hands,  they  become  warm, 
and  every  other  body  also  may  be  made  warm  with- 
out putting  it  before  the  fire,  provided  only  it  be 
moved  and  shaken  so  that  many  of  its  minute  particles 
are  set  in  motion,  and  along  with  them  those  of  our 
hands. 


214  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

As  for  what  light  is,  it  can  easily  be  conceived  that 
the  same  motion  which  exists  in  the  flame  may  be  suf- 
ficient to  enable  us  to  perceive  it ;  but  inasmuch  as  it 
is  in  this  that  the  principal  part  of  my  design  con- 
sists, I  wish  to  attempt  to  explain  it  at  length,  and 
to  carry  on  my  discourse  further. 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  215 


CHAPTER  III. 

Of  solids  and  fluids. 

I  CONSIDER  that  there  is  an  infinity  of  different 
motions  which  are  perpetually  going  on  in  the  uni- 
verse, and  after  having  observed  the  greater,  which 
make  the  days,  the  months,  and  the  years,  I  take  note 
that  the  vapors  of  the  earth  do  not  cease  to  rise  to- 
ward the  clouds  and  to  descend  from  them,  that  the 
air  is  always  moved  by  the  winds,  that  the  sea  is  never 
at  rest,  that  the  springs  and  the  rivers  flow  without 
ceasing,  that  the  firmest  buildings  fall  at  last  in  de- 
cay, that  plants  and  animals  do  nothing  but  grow  up 
and  perish  ;  in  short,  that  there  is  nothing  anywhere 
which  does  not  change.  Whence  I  certainly  know 
that  it  is  not  in  flame  only  that  there  is  a  multitude  of 
minute  particles  in  incessant  motion,  but  that  they 
exist  also  in  all  other  bodies,  although  their  actions 
are  not  so  violent,  and,  because  of  their  minuteness, 
they  cannot  be  perceived  by  any  of  our  senses. 

1  am  not  going  to  stop  to  inquire  into  the  cause  of 
their  movements,  because  it  is  sufficient  for  my  pur- 
pose to  suppose  that  they  began  to  be  in  motion  as 
soon  as  the  world  began  to  exist,  and,  this  being  so,  I 
find  by  my  reasonings  that  it  is  impossible  that  their 
movements  should  ever  cease,  nor  even  change  other- 
wise than  in  the  subject  of  them  ;  that  is  to  say,  that 
the  virtue  or  power  of  moving  itself,  which  exists  in 
a  body,  may  indeed  pass,  either  wholly  or  in  part, 
into  another,  and  thus  nn  longer  exist  in  the  first, 


216  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

but  that  it  cannot  be  no  longer  at  all  in  the  world. 
My  reasonings,  I  say,  satisfy  my  own  mind  with  re- 
gard to  this,  but  there  is  no  need  that  I  state  them  to 
you  at  present ;  and  still,  if  you  please,  you  may 
imagine,  as  do  the  majority  of  the  learned,  that  there 
is  some  primum  mobile  which,  revolving  about  the 
world  with  inconceivable  velocity,  is  the  origin  and 
source  of  all  other  movements  which  occur  in  it. 

Now,  in  accordance  with  this  view,  there  is  afforded 
an  explanation  of  the  cause  of  all  the  changes  which 
happen  in  the  universe,  and  of  all  the  varied  phe- 
nomena which  appear  upon  the  earth  ;  but  I  shall 
here  content  myself  with  speaking  of  those  which  re- 
late to  my  subject. 

The  difference  which  exists  between  hard  bodies 
and  those  which  are  liquid  is  the  first  that  I  desire 
you  to  observe  ;  and,  to  this  end,  suppose  that  every 
body  be  divisible  into  parts  extremely  small.  I  do 
not  wish  to  decide  whether  the  number  of  them  is  in- 
finite or  not ;  but  it  is  certain,  at  least  in  relation  to 
our  knowledge,  that  the  number  is  indefinitely  great, 
and  that  we  may  suppose  that  there  are  many  millions 
in  the  smallest  grain  of  sand  which  can  be  perceived 
by  our  eyes.  And  observe,  that  if  two  of  these  mi- 
nute parts  touch  each  other  without  being  in  action, 
in  order  to  remove  them  the  one  from  the  other,  some 
force,  however  slight,  is  necessary  to  separate  them  ; 
for  when  once  they  are  so  situated  they  will  never 
think  of  arranging  themselves  otherwise.  Observe, 
also,  that  twice  as  much  force  is  necessary  to  separate 
two  of  them  as  to  separate  one,  and  a  thousand  times 
as  much  to  separate  a  thousand  ;  so  that  if  many 
millions  are  to  be  separated  all  at  once — as,  perhaps, 
might  be  necessary  to  be  done  in  order  to  break  a 


PHYSICS]    THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  217 

single  hair — it  is  no  wonder  if  there  is  needed  a  force 
great  enough  to  be  appreciable  by  the  senses. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  two  or  more  of  these  minute 
particles  touch  only  in  passing  and  while  they  are  in 
motion,  the  one  in  one  direction,  the  other  in  another, 
it  is  certain  that  there  will  be  required  less  force  to 
separate  them  than  if  they  were  entirely  motionless  ; 
and  even  none  at  all,  if  the  motion  with  which  they 
tend  of  themselves  to  separate  is  equal  to  or  greater 
than  that  with  which  one  seeks  to  separate  them. 
Now  I  find  no  other  difference  between  solid  and 
liquid  bodies  save  that  the  particles  of  the  one  can  be 
separated  from  the  mass  much  more  easily  than  those 
of  the  other.  So  that,  to  constitute  the  hardest  body 
imaginable,  I  hold  that  it  is  enough  that  all  its  parts 
touch,  without  there  remaining  any  space  between 
them,  and  without  any  of  them  having  a  tendency  to 
move,  for  what  glue  or  what  cement  could  be  imag- 
ined besides  that,  which  could  make  them  better  hold 
together  ? 

I  suppose,  also,  that  it  is  enough  to  constitute  the 
most  liquid  body  which  could  be  found,  that  all  its 
most  minute  particles  should  be  moving  in  the  most 
various  directions  from  one  another  and  with  the 
utmost  possible  velocity,  although  at  the  same  time 
they  do  not  lose  the  power  of  touching  one  another  on 
every  side  and  of  occupying  as  little  space  as  if  they 
were  motionless.  In  fine,  I  believe  that  every  body 
approaches  more  or  less  these  two  extremes,  in  pro- 
portion as  its  particles  have  more  or  less  the  tendency 
to  withdraw  from  one  another  ;  and  all  the  phenomena 
upon  which  I  cast  my  eyes  confirm  me  in  this  opinion. 

Flame,  of  which  I  have  already  said  that  all  its 
particles  are  in  perpetual  motion,  is  not  only  liquid, 


2l8  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

but  it  also  liquefies  most  other  bodies.  And  observe 
that  when  it  melts  metals  it  acts  with  no  other  power 
than  when  it  burns  wood  ;  but  because  the  particles 
of  metals  are  a  little  more  nearly  equal,  it  cannot 
separate  one  without  another,  and  thus  make  of  them 
bodies  entirely  liquid,  whereas  the  particles  of  wood 
are  so  unequal  that  it  can  separate  the  smallest 
particles  and  liquefy  them  ;  that  is  to  say  make  them 
fly  off  in  smoke,  without  thus  moving  the  grosser  ones. 

Next  to  flame  there  is  nothing  more  liquid  than  air ; 
and  one  may  see  at  a  glance  that  its  particles  move 
separately  one  from  another  ;  for,  if  you  will  con- 
descend to  notice  those  minute  particles  which  are 
commonly  called  motes,  and  which  appear  in  sun- 
beams, you  will  see,  even  if  there  is  no  wind  moving 
them,  that  they  are  incessantly  flying  hither  and 
thither  in  a  thousand  different  directions.  The  same 
thing  can  be  shown  in  all  the  grosser  liquids,  if  they 
are  mixed  of  divers  colors  the  one  with  the  other,  so 
as  better  to  distinguish  their  movements.  And  finally, 
this  appears  very  clearly  in  strong  acids,  when  they 
move  and  separate  particles  of  any  metal. 

But  you  may  ask  me  at  this  point  why,  if  it  is  the 
motion  only  of  the  flame  which  makes  it  burn  and  be 
liquid,  the  motion  of  the  particles  of  the  air,  which 
renders  it  also  extremely  liquid,  does  not  impart  to  it 
just  the  same  power  to  burn,  but,  on  the  contrary, 
makes  it  almost  imperceptible  to  our  hands.  To 
which  I  reply  that  it  is  necessary  not  only  to  take 
account  of  the  swiftness  of  the  motion,  but  also  of  the 
size  of  the  particles,  and  that  those  are  the  smallest 
which  constitute  the  most  liquid  bodies,  but  those  are 
the  largest  which  have  the  greatest  power  to  burn,  and, 
in  general,  to  act  on  other  bodies. 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.          219 

Observe,  in  passing,  that  I  mean  here,  and  that  I 
shall  always  mean  hereafter,  by  a  single  particle,  all 
that  is  joined  together  and  which  has  no  tendency  to 
separate  itself,  although  those  which  have  very  little 
magnitude  might  easily  be  divided  into  many  others 
still  smaller ;  thus,  a  grain  of  sand,  a  stone,  a  rock, 
the  whole  earth  even,  will  be  taken  hereafter  as  a 
single  particle,  in  so  far  as  we  shall  consider  therein 
only  a  motion  entirely  simple  and  uniform. 

Now,  between  the  particles  of  the  air,  if  there  are 
any  of  them  very  large  in  comparison  to  the  rest,  as 
are  these  motes  which  are  seen  in  it,  they  move  also 
more  slowly,  and  if  there  are  any  which  move  more 
swiftly,  they  are  also  smaller  ;  but  between  the  parts 
of  a  flame,  if  there  are  any  which  are  smaller  than  those 
in  the  air,  there  are  also  greater  ones,  or  at  least  there 
is  a  greater  number  of  those  which  are  equal  to  the 
greatest  in  the  air,  which  at  the  same  time  move 
much  more  swiftly,  and  it  is  only  these  last  which 
have  power  to  burn.  That  it  has  smaller  ones  may 
be  conjectured  from  the  fact  that  they  penetrate 
through  many  bodies  the  pores  of  which  are  so  small 
that  the  air  even  cannot  enter  them  ;  that  it  has  greater, 
or  at  least  the  large  ones  in  greater  number,  is  evident 
from  this,  that  the  air  alone  is  not  sufficient  to  support 
it  ;  that  they  move  more  rapidly  the  violence  of  their 
action  sufficiently  attests  ;  and  finally,  that  it  is  the 
largest  of  these  particles  which  have  the  power  to 
burn,  and  not  the  others,  appears  in  this,  that  the  flame 
which  comes  from  brandy  or  other  highly  rarefied 
substances  scarcely  burns  at  all,  and  on  the  other  hand 
that  which  proceeds  from  hard  and  heavy  substances 
is  very  hot. 


220  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.     [PART  III 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Of  vacuum;  *  and  how  it  happens  that  our  senses  do 
not  perceive  certain  substances. 

BUT  we  must  inquire  more  particularly  why  the  air, 
being  a  substance  as  well  as  others,  cannot  as  well  be 
perceived  as  they,  and  by  this  means  deliver  ourselves 
from  an  error  which  has  held  possession  of  our  minds 
from  infancy,  since  we  have  believed  that  there  are 
no  other  bodies  about  us  than  those  which  can  be 
perceived,  and,  accordingly,  that  although  the  air  be 
a  substance,  because  we  perceive  it  slightly,  it  cannot, 
at  any  rate,  be  so  material  or  so  solid  as  those  which 
we  perceive  more  sensibly. 

In  regard  to  which  I  desire  first  that  you  observe 
that  all  bodies,  solid  as  well  as  liquid,  are  composed 
of  one  and  the  same  matter,  and  that  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  that  the  particles  of  this  matter  ever  com- 
pose a  substance  more  solid,  or  which  occupies  less 
space,  than  those  do  where  each  one  of  them  is 
touched  on  all  sides  by  those  which  environ  it  ; 
whence  it  follows,  as  it  seems  to  me,  that  if  there  is  a 
vacuum  anywhere,  it  must  rather  be  in  solid  than  in 
liquid  bodies  ;  for  it  is  evident  that  the  particles  of 
these  latter  may  be  more  easily  compressed  and 
brought  to  bear  upon  one  another,  because  they  are 
in  motion,  than  would  be  possible  in  the  case  of  those 
of  others  which  are  motionless. 

*Princ.,  pt.  ii,  16,  17,  18  (CEuvres,  t.  3,  p.  133,  seg.);  Veitch's 
Descartes,  p.  241. 


PHYSICS]    THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  221 

For  example,  if  you  put  a  powdered  substance 
into  a  vase,  you  shake  the  vase  and  strike  it,  in  order 
to  get  in  more ;  but  if  you  pour  into  it  any  liquid,  it 
immediately  takes  up  as  little  space  as  it  can  be  made 
to  occupy.  And,  also,  if  you  consider  in  this  relation 
some  of  the  experiments  which  philosophers  are  wont 
to  make  use  of  in  order  to  show  that  there  is  no  void 
in  nature,  you  will  easily  see  that  all  those  spaces 
which  people  think  are  empty,  and  where  they  per- 
ceive nothing  but  air,  are  at  least  as  full,  and  filled 
with  the  same  matter,  as  those  where  they  perceive 
other  bodies. 

For,  tell  me,  pray,  what  likelihood  there  is  that 
nature  would  make  the  heavier  bodies  rise  and  the 
harder  ones  break,  as  we  find  that  she  does  in  certain 
machines,  rather  than  suffer  that  any  of  their  parts 
should  fail  to  be  in  contact  with  each  other,  or  with 
some  other  bodies  ;  and  that,  nevertheless,  she  should 
permit  the  particles  of  the  air,  which  are  so  ready  to 
yield  and  to  dispose  themselves  in  every  way,  to 
remain,  some  next  others  without  being  in  contact  on 
all  sides,  or  without  there  being  any  body  between 
them  which  they  could  touch  ?  Is  it  easy  to  believe 
that  the  water  in  a  well  would  rise  upward,  contrary 
to  its  natural  inclination,  merely  that  the  tube  of  a 
pump  might  be  filled,  and  to  suppose  that  the  water  in 
the  clouds  should  not  descend  to  fill  the  spaces  below, 
if  there  were  never  so  little  void  between  the  particles 
of  the  bodies  which  they  contain  ? 

But  you  might  here  present  a  difficulty  of  consider- 
able weight,  namely,  that  the  particles  which  compose 
liquid  bodies  cannot,  apparently,  be  in  incessant 
motion,  as  I  have  said  they  were,  if  there  do  not 
exist  empty  space  between  them,  at  least  in  the 


222  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

places  from  which  they  start,  in  proportion  to  the 
distance  which  they  move.  I  should  have  some 
trouble  in  meeting  this  objection  had  I  not  satisfied 
myself,  by  various  experiments,  that  all  the  motions 
which  take  place  on  the  earth  are  of  a  circular  form ; 
that  is  to  say,  that  when  a  body  quits  its  place,  it  always 
enters  that  of  another,  and  that  one  into  that  of 
another,  and  so  on  up  to  the  last,  which  takes,  at  the 
same  instant,  the  place  left  by  the  first,  so  that  there 
exists  a  void  between  them  no  more  when  they  are  in 
motion  than  when  they  are  at  rest.  And  notice  here 
that  it  is  not  on  this  account  necessary  that  all  the 
particles  of  a  body  which  are  in  motion  together 
should  be  exactly  arranged  in  a  round  line  in  the  form 
of  a  true  circle,  nor  even  that  they  should  be  of  the 
same  size  and  figure  ;  for  these  inequalities  may  easily 
be  compensated  by  other  inequalities  in  their  velocity. 
Now  we  do  not  ordinarily  notice  these  circular 
movements  when  bodies  are  moving  in  the  air,  because 
we  are  accustomed  to  conceive  the  air  only  as  an 
empty  space  ;but  watch  the  fish  swimming  in  the  basin 
of  a  fountain  ;  if  they  do  not  come  too  near  the  sur- 
face of  the  water  they  do  not  disturb  it  at  all,  although 
they  pass  beneath  it  with  very  great  swiftness;  whence 
it  manifestly  appears  that  the  water  which  they  push 
before  them  does  not  push  indiscriminately  all  the 
water  of  the  basin,  but  only  that  which  can  best 
serve  to  complete  the  circle  of  their  movement  and 
re-enter  into  the  place  which  they  leave  behind.  And 
this  example  is  enough  to  show  how  easy  and  familiar 
to  nature  these  circular  movements  are  ;  but  I  will  now 
adduce  another,  to  show  that  there  is  never  any  other 
than  a  circular  movement.  When  the  wine  in  a  cask 
does  not  flow  out  at  the  opening  below,  because  the 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD  J    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  223 

one  above  is  closed,  it  is  incorrect  to  say,  as  is  com- 
monly said,  that  this  is  due  to  the  "  horror  of  a 
vacuum."  It  is  well  understood  that  the  wine  has  no 
mind  whereby  it  can  fear  anything  ;  and  if  it  had,  I 
do  not  see  what  occasion  it  would  have  to  fear  that 
vacuum,  which  is  really  nothing  but  a  chimera  ;  but  it 
must  be  said  rather  that  it  cannot  pass  out  of  the 
cask  because  the  outside  is  as  full  as  it  can  be,  and 
that  the  portion  of  the  air,  the  place  of  which  it 
would  occupy  if  it  should  descend,  could  find  no 
other  where  to  bestow  itself  in  all  the  rest  of  the  uni- 
verse, unless  an  opening  were  made  at  the  top  of  the 
cask,  by  which  this  air  might  remount  in  a  circle  to 
the  place  left. 

As  for  the  rest,  I  will  not  affirm  that  there  is  no 
void  at  all  in  nature  ;  I  fear  my  discourse  would  run 
on  too  long  if  I  should  undertake  to  explain  what 
there  is  of  void  ;  and  the  facts  I  have  just  mentioned 
are  not  sufficient  to  prove  it,  although  they  are 
sufficient  to  convince  us  that  the  spaces  where  we  per- 
ceive nothing  are  filled  with  the  same  matter,  and  con- 
tain at  least  as  much  of  this  matter  as  those  which  are 
occupied  with  bodies  which  we  perceive  ;  so  that,  when 
a  vase,  for  example,  is  full  of  gold  or  lead,  it  does 
not,  on  that  account,  contain  more  matter  than  when 
we  think  it  is  empty.  This  may  seem  very  strange  to 
many  whose  mind  does  not  reach  beyond  their  fingers, 
and  who  think  there  is  nothing  at  all  except  what  they 
touch. 

But  when  you  shall  have  taken  into  consideration 
what  it  is  that  makes  us  perceive  a  body  or  not  per- 
ceive it,  I  am  sure  you  will  not  find  anything  incredible 
in  this,  for  you  will  clearly  understand  that,  so  far 
from  it  being  true  that  all  the  things  which  are  about 


224  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

us  are  perceptible,  on  the  contrary  it  is  those  which 
are  most  commonly  present  which  are  the  least  so,  and 
those  which  are  always  present  are  never  perceptible. 

The  heat  of  the  heart  is  very  great,  but  we  do  not 
perceive  it,  because  it  is  uniform ;  the  weight  of  the 
body  is  not  small,  but  it  does  not  inconvenience  us ; 
we  do  not  notice  even  that  of  our  garments,  because 
we  are  accustomed  to  wear  them  ;  and  the  reason  for 
this  is  clear  enough,  for  it  is  certain  that  we  cannot 
perceive  any  body  unless  it  cause  some  change  in  the 
organs  of  our  senses  ;  that  is  to  say,  unless  it  set  in 
motion  in  some  way  the  minute  particles  of  matter  of 
which  these  organs  are  composed  ;  which  objects  that 
are  not  always  present  may  easily  do,  provided  they 
have  sufficient  force;  for  if  they  consume  something 
in  their  action,  nature  can  repair  this  afterward,  when 
they  are  no  longer  acting;  but  as  for  those  substances 
with  which  we  are  continually  in  contact,  if  they  have 
never  had  the  power  to  produce  any  change  in  our 
senses,  and  to  set  in  motion  any  particles  of  their  mat- 
ter, it  may  be  they  have  so  powerfully  excited  them  at 
the  beginning  of  our  existence  as  to  disunite  them 
entirely  from  the  rest,  and  so  they  may  have  left  there 
only  those  which  entirely  resist  their  action,  and  by 
means  of  which  they  could  not  in  any  way  be  per- 
ceived ;  whence  you  see  that  is  no  marvel  that  there 
should  be  many  spaces  around  us  where  we  do  not 
perceive  any  substance,  although  they  may  contain  no 
fewer  than  those  where  we  perceive  many. 

But  it  is  not  necessary  on  that  account  to  suppose 
that  this  grosser  air,  which  we  draw  into  our  lungs  in 
breathing,  which  becomes  wind  when  set  in  motion, 
which  appears  hard  to  us  when  confined  in  a  balloon, 
and  which  is  composed  only  of  exhalations  and  vapors, 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  J    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  225 

is  as  solid  as  water  or  the  earth.  We  must  follow  in 
this  the  common  opinion  of  philosophers,  all  of  whom 
assure  us  that  it  is  more  rare.  And  this  is  easily  as- 
certained by  experience,  for  the  particles  of  a  drop  of 
water  being  separated  from  one  another  by  the  agi- 
tation of  heat  can  make  much  more  of  this  air  than 
the  space  where  the  water  was  could  contain;  whence 
it  certainly  follows  that  there  is  a  great  number  of 
minute  interspaces  between  the  particles  of  which  it 
is  composed;  for  there  is  no  way  of  conceiving,  other- 
wise, a  rare  body.  But  because  these  interspaces  can- 
not be  empty,  as  I  have  said  above,  I  conclude  from 
all  this  that  there  are  of  necessity  some  other  bodies, 
one  or  many,  mixed  with  this  air,  which  fill  as  com- 
pletely as  possible  the  minute  interspaces  which  exist 
between  its  particles.  There  now  remains  only  to 
consider  what  these  other  bodies  may  be,  and  after 
that  I  hope  it  will  not  be  difficult  to  comprehend  the 
probable  nature  of  light. 


226  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  III 


CHAPTER  V. 

Of  the  number  of  elements  and  their  qualities. 

PHILOSOPHERS  assure  us  that  there  is,  above  the 
clouds,  a  certain  air  far  more  rare  than  ours,  and 
which  is  not  composed  of  vapors  of  the  earth,  as  this 
is,  but  constitutes  an  element  by  itself.  They  say, 
also,  that  above  this  air  there  is  still  another  substance 
yet  more  rare,  which  they  call  the  element  of  fire. 
They  add  further  that  these  two  elements  are  mingled 
with  the  water,  the  air,  and  the  earth  in  the  compo- 
sition of  all  inferior  bodies  ;  so  that  I  only  follow  their 
opinion  if  I  say  that  this  more  subtle  air  and  this 
element  of  fire  fill  the  interspaces  which  are  between 
the  particles  of  the  grosser  air  which  we  breathe, 
so  that  these  substances,  intermixed  with  one  another, 
compose  a  mass  which  is  as  solid  as  any  substance 
can  be. 

But  in  order  that  I  may  make  you  better  understand 
my  thought  upon  this  subject,  and  that  you  may  not 
suppose  that  I  would  have  you  believe  all  that  philos- 
ophers tell  us  about  the  elements,  I  must  describe  them 
to  you  in  my  own  way. 

I  conceive  the  first,  which  may  be  called  the  ele- 
ment of  fire,  as  a  liquid  the  most  subtle  and  pene- 
trating in  the  universe  ;  and,  in  accordance  with  what 
has  been  said  above  concerning  the  nature  of  liquid 
bodies,  I  imagine  its  particles  much  smaller  and  as 
moving  much  more  swiftly  than  those  of  other  bodies  ; 
or  rather,  in  order  not  to  be  compelled  to  admit  any 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  227 

vacuum  in  nature,  I  do  not  attribute  to  it  particles 
having  any  size  or  determinate  figure,  but  I  am  per- 
suaded that  the  impetuosity  of  its  movement  is  suffi- 
cient to  cause  it  to  be  divided  in  every  form  and 
manner  on  meeting  with  other  bodies,  and  that  its 
particles  change  their  form  at  every  instant  to  accom- 
modate themselves  to  the  spaces  which  they  enter,  so 
that  there  is  never  a  passage  so  narrow,  nor  any  angle 
so  small,  between  the  particles  of  other  bodies,  where 
those  of  this  element  cannot  penetrate  without  diffi- 
culty, and  which  they  cannot  fill  completely. 

As  for  the  second,  which  may  be  taken  for  the 
element  of  air,  I  conceive  it,  indeed,  also,  as  a  very 
rare  liquid,  when  compared  with  the  third  :  but,  when 
compared  with  the  first,  it  is  necessary  to  attribute 
some  magnitude  and  some  figure  to  each  of  its 
particles,  and  to  imagine  them  almost  entirely  round 
and  joined  together,  like  grains  of  sand  and  dust ;  so 
that  they  cannot  so  easily  come  in  contact  nor  press 
so  much  against  one  another  but  that  there  always 
remain  about  them  many  small  interstices,  into 
which  it  is  the  easier  for  the  first  element  to  glide, 
because  they  have  to  undergo  no  change  of  form  in 
order  exactly  to  fill  them.  And  so  I  am  persuaded 
that  this  second  element  cannot  be  so  pure  in  any 
part  of  the  universe  that  it  has  not  always  in  it  some 
small  part  of  the  matter  of  the  first. 

Besides  these  two  elements  I  recognize  only  a  third, 
namely  that  of  earth,  the  particles  of  which  I  suppose 
to  be  as  much  larger  and  as  moving  with  as  much  less 
rapidity  in  comparison  to  those  of  the  second,  as  the 
latter  do  in  comparison  with  those  of  the  first ;  and, 
also,  I  think  it  sufficient  to  conceive  it  as  one  or 
as  many  great  masses,  the  parts  of  which  have  very 


228  THE   PHILOSOPHY   OF   DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

little  or  no  motion  whatever,  which  should  make  them 
change  their  position  with  respect  to  one  another. 

If  you  are  surprised  that,  for  the  explanation  of 
these  elements,  I  make  no  use  of  the  qualities  called 
heat,  cold,  moisture,  dryness,  as  do  the  philosophers, 
I  will  inform  you  that  these  qualities  appear  to  me 
to  need  explanation  themselves,  and  that,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  not  only  these  four  qualities,  but  also  all 
the  rest,  and,  indeed,  all  the  forms  of  inanimate  bodies, 
can  be  explained  without  the  necessity  of  supposing 
for  this  purpose  anything  else  in  their  matter  than 
the  motion,  size,  figure,  and  arrangement  of  these 
particles  ;  accordingly,  I  can  easily  make  you  under- 
stand why  I  accept  no  other  elements  than  those  I 
have  described  ;  for  the  difference  which  would  exist 
between  them  and  the  bodies  which  philosophers  call 
mixed,  or  mingled,  and  composite,  consists  in  this, 
that  the  forms  of  those  composite  bodies  always  con- 
tain in  themselves  some  qualities  which  are  hostile 
and  harmful,  or,  at  least,  which  do  not  tend  to  mutual 
preservation  ;  whereas  the  forms  of  elements  should 
be  simple  and  have  no  qualities  which  do  not  perfectly 
agree  together — so  perfectly  that  each  should  tend 
to  the  preservation  of  all  the  rest.  Examine,  as  much 
as  you  please,  all  the  forms  which  the  various  motions, 
the  various  figures,  and  sizes,  and  the  different  ar- 
rangement of  the  particles  of  matter  can  impart  to 
composite  bodies,  and  I  assure  you  that  you  will  not 
find  one  which  has  not  in  it  qualities  which  cause  it 
to  change,  and  which,  in  changing,  would  reduce  itself 
to  some  one  of  those  of  the  elements. 

As  for  example,  flame — the  form  of  which  requires  it 
to  have  particles  which  move  very  swiftly  and  which, 
at  the  same  time,  must  have  some  magnitude,  as  has 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  229 

been  said  above — cannot  exist  long  without  consuming 
itself ;  for  either  the  magnitude  of  its  particles,  im- 
parting to  them  energy  of  action  upon  other  sub- 
stances, will  cause  their  motion  to  be  diminished,  or  the 
violence  of  their  motion,  shattering  them  when  they 
clash  against  other  substances,  will  cause  them  some 
loss  of  magnitude  ;  and,  in  this  way,  they  might,  little 
by  little,  be  reduced  to  the  form  of  the  third  element, 
or  to  that  of  the  second,  and  even,  also,  some  of  them 
to  that  of  the  first.  And  thereby  you  may  understand 
the  difference  between  this  flame,  or  common  fire,  as 
we  know  it,  and  the  element  of  fire  which  I  have  de- 
scribed. And  you  should  also  know  that  the  elements 
of  air  and  of  earth,  that  is  to  say  the  second  and  third 
elements,  are  not  more  similar  to  the  grosser  air  which 
we  breathe  and  this  earth  upon  which  we  walk  ;  but 
that,  in  general,  all  the  substances  which  exist  about 
us  are  mixed  or  composite,  and  subject  to  decay. 

And  yet  it  must  not  be  supposed  on  that  account 
that  the  elements  have  no  places  in  the  universe  par- 
ticularly assigned  to  them,  and  where  they  can  per- 
petually preserve  themselves  in  their  native  purity  ; 
but,  on  the  contrary,  since  each  particle  of  matter 
tends  always  to  reduce  itself  to  some  one  of  its  forms, 
and,  once  being  reduced  thereto,  it  never  tends  to  leave 
it,  although  indeed  God  might  have  created  at  the 
beginning  only  composite  bodies  ;  nevertheless,  during 
the  time  the  universe  has  existed,  all  bodies  have  had 
sufficient  time  to  leave  their  own  forms  and  take  those 
of  the  elements  ;  so  that  now  there  is  great  proba- 
bility that  all  bodies,  which  are  large  enough  to  be 
reckoned  among  the  more  important  parts  of  the  uni- 
verse, have  each  of  them  only  the  quite  simple  form 
of  one  of  the  elements,  and  that  composite  substances 


230  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  III 

exist  nowhere  else  than  upon  the  surfaces  of  these 
great  bodies  :  but  they  must  necessarily  exist  there  ; 
for,  the  elements  being  hostile  by  nature,  two  of  them 
cannot  come  into  contact  without  each  acting  upon 
the  surface  of  the  other,  and  thus  imparting  to  the 
matter  which  is  there  the  different  forms  of  composite 
substances. 

In  reference  to  which,  if  we  consider,  in  general,  all 
the  bodies  of  which  the  universe  is  composed,  we  shall 
mid  only  three  kinds  which  can  be  called  great  and  be 
reckoned  among  its  principal  portions  :  that  is  to  say, 
the  sun  and  fixed  stars  for  the  first,  the  heavens  for 
the  second,  and  the  earth,  with  the  planets  and  the 
comets,  for  the  third  ;  we  have,  therefore,  good  reason 
for  thinking  that  the  sun  and  fixed  stars  have  no  other 
form  than  that  of  the  first  element  quite  pure  ;  the 
heavens,  that  of  the  second  ;  and  the  earth,  with  the 
planets  and  the  comets,  that  of  the  third. 

I  put  the  planets  and  the  comets  with  the  earth, 
because  seeing  that  they  resist  the  light  as  it  does, 
and  reflect  its  rays,  I  can  perceive  no  difference.  I 
put  the  sun  with  the  fixed  stars,  and  attribute  to  them 
a  nature  quite  opposite  to  that  of  the  earth,  for  the 
action  of  their  light  alone  convinces  me  that  their 
substance  is  of  a  matter  extremely  rare  and  mobile. 

As  for  the  heavens,  inasmuch  as  they  cannot  be 
perceived  by  our  senses,  I  think  I  am  right  in  attribut- 
ing to  them  an  intermediate  nature,  between  that  of 
the  luminous  bodies,  the  action  of  which  we  perceive, 
and  that  of  the  hard  and  heavy  substances,  the  resist- 
ance of  which  we  feel. 

Finally,  we  are  not  aware  of  the  existence  of  com- 
posite bodies  in  any  other  place  than  upon  the  surface 
of  the  earth ;  and  when  we  consider  that  the  whole 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  231 

space  which  contains  them — namely,  all  that  which  lies 
between  the  highest  clouds  and  the  deepest  mines 
which  the  greed  of  man  has  dug  to  extract  the  metals — 
is  extremely  small  in  comparison  of  the  earth  and  the 
immense  expanse  of  the  sky,  we  can  easily  imagine 
that  these  composite  bodies,  all  taken  together,  are 
only  the  outside  rind  which  has  been  formed  upon 
the  surface  of  the  earth  by  the  motion  and  mixture  of 
the  matter  of  the  heavens  which  surround  it. 

And  thus  we  shall  have  occasion  to  think  that  not 
only  in  the  air  that  we  breathe,  but  also  in  all  other 
composite  substances,  even  to  the  hardest  stones  and 
the  heaviest  metals,  there  are  particles  of  the  ele- 
ment of  air  mixed  with  those  of  the  earth,  and  con- 
sequently, also,  particles  of  the  element  of  fire,  be- 
cause this  is  always  found  in  the  pores  of  that  of  the 
air. 

But  it  is  to  be  observed  that,  although  there  are 
particles  of  these  three  elements  mingled  with  each 
other  in  all  these  substances,  it  is,  properly  speaking, 
only  those  which  on  account  of  their  size  or  the 
difficulty  with  which  they  move,  are  to  be  referred  to 
the  third,  which  compose  all  the  substances  which  we 
perceive  around  us  ;  for  the  particles  of  the  two  other 
elements  are  so  rare  that  they  cannot  be  perceived  by 
our  senses  ;  and  thus  all  these  substances  can  be  im- 
agined as  being  sponges,  in  which,  although  there  are 
a  quantity  of  pores  or  holes  which  are  always  full  of 
air  or  water,  or  some  similar  liquid,  it  is,  nevertheless, 
not  supposed  that  these  liquids  enter  into  the  com- 
position of  the  sponge.  There  still  remain  many 
other  things  for  me  to  explain,  and  I  should  be  very 
glad  to  add  some  reasons  to  make  my  views  seem 
more  probable,  but  in  order  that  the  length  of  this 


232  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

discourse  may  seem  the  less  tedious  to  you,  I  wish  to 
clothe  a  part  of  it  in  the  guise  of  a  fable,  through 
which  I  hope  the  truth  will  not  fail  sufficiently  to  ap- 
pear, and  will  be  no  less  agreeable  to  look  upon  than 
if  I  should  present  it  quite  naked. 


PHYSICS]    THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.          233 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Description  of  a  new  world  and  of  the  qualities  of  the 
matter  of  which  it  is  composed. 

LET,  then,  your  thought  pass  for  a  little  while  beyond 
this  world,  that  you  may  behold  another  wholly  new 
one,  which  I  shall  cause  to  rise  to  view  in  imaginary 
spaces.  Philosophers  tell  us  that  these  spaces  are  in- 
finite ;  and  they  surely  ought  to  be  believed,  since  it 
is  themselves  who  have  made  them ;  but  that  this 
infinity  may  not  hinder  us  or  prove  an  embarrass- 
ment, let  us  not  try  to  get  to  the  end  of  it  :  let  us 
proceed  so  far  only  as  to  lose  sight  of  all  the  creatures 
God  has  made  in  five  or  six  thousand  years  ;  and  when 
we  have  come  to  a  stand  there  at  some  fixed  point, 
let  us  imagine  that  God  creates  anew  all  around  us 
so  much  matter  as  that,  whatever  direction  our  imagi- 
nation may  take,  it  shall  discover  no  empty  place. 
Grant  that  the  ocean  is  not  infinite,  those  who  are 
upon  a  ship  in  the  middle  of  it  can  extend  their  view 
apparently  to  infinity,  and  nevertheless  there  is  water 
beyond  what  they  can  see  ;  thus,  although  our  imagi- 
nation seems  to  be  able  to  stretch  to  infinity,  and  this 
new  matter  may  not  be  supposed  to  be  infinite,  we 
may  nevertheless  well  suppose  that  it  fills  spaces  far 
greater  than  all  those  we  shall  have  imagined  ;  and 
yet,  in  order  that  there  may  be  no  ground  for  objec- 
tion in  all  this,  let  us  not  allow  our  imagination  to 
stretch  itself  as  far  as  it  can,  but  let  us  purposely  con- 
fine  it  within  a  certain  space,  which  need  not  be  very 


234  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

great — for  example,  the  distance  between  the  earth  and 
the  principal  stars  of  the  firmament ;  and  let  us  sup- 
pose that  the  matter  which  God  shall  have  created 
stretches  far  beyond,  to  an  indefinite  distance  in  all 
directions  ;  for  this  is,  indeed,  more  likely,  and  we  can 
more  easily  prescribe  limits  to  the  activity  of  our 
thought  than  to  the  works  of  God. 

Now,  since  we  take  the  liberty  to  fashion  this  matter 
according  to  our  fancy,  we  will  attribute  to  it,  if  you 
please,  a  nature  in  which  there  is  nothing  at  all  that 
anyone  cannot  know  as  perfectly  as  possible  ;  and, 
in  order  to  this,  let  us  suppose  expressly  that  it  has 
not  the  form  of  earth,  or  fire,  or  air,  or  of  any  other 
thing  in  particular,  as  wood,  stone,  or  metal  ;  nor  the 
qualities  of  being  hot  or  cold,  dry  or  moist,  light  or 
heavy ;  or  that  it  has  any  taste,  or  odor,  or  sound,  or 
color,  or  light,  or  other  similar  quality,  in  the  nature 
of  which  it  could  be  said  there  was  something  which 
is  not  clearly  known  by  everybody. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  let  us  not  think  of  it  as 
being  that  primary  matter  of  philosophers,  which  has 
been  so  stripped  of  all  its  forms  and  qualities  that 
there  is  nothing  remaining  which  can  be  clearly  con- 
ceived ;  but  let  us  conceive  of  it  as  a  true  substance 
perfectly  solid,  which  uniformly  fills  all  the  length, 
breadth,  and  depth  of  that  great  space,  in  the  midst  of 
which  we  have  stayed  our  thought,  so  that  each  one 
of  its  particles  always  occupies  a  portion  of  that  space 
so  related  to  its  magnitude  that  it  could  not  fill  a 
greater,  nor  contract  itself  into  a  less,  nor  allow, 
while  it  remains  there,  any  other  to  enter  it. 

Add  to  this,  that  this  matter  can  be  divided  into  all 
the  parts  and  according  to  all  the  figures  we  can  im- 
agine, and  that  each  one  of  its  parts  is  capable  of  tak- 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  235 

ing  on  also  all  the  motions  which  we  can  conceive  of ; 
and  suppose,  further,  that  God  has  actually  divided  it 
into  many  such  parts,  some  greater,  some  smaller  ; 
some  of  one  figure,  others  of  another,  whatever  we 
may  be  pleased  to  fancy  ;  not  that,  in  doing  so,  he  has 
separated  them  from  one  another,  so  that  there  should 
be  any  empty  space  between  two  of  them  ;  but  let 
us  suppose  that  the  only  distinction  to  be  met  with 
consists  in  the  variety  of  the  motions  he  gives  to 
them,  in  causing  that,  at  the  very  instant  that  they  are 
created,  some  of  them  begin  to  move  in  one  direction, 
others  in  another  ;  some  more  swiftly,  others  more 
slowly  (or,  if  you  please,  not  at  all),  and  that  they 
continue  thereafter  their  motions  according  to  the 
ordinary  laws  of  nature  ;  for  God  has  so  marvelously 
ordained  these  laws  that,  although  we  should  sup- 
pose that  he  had  created  nothing  more  than  what  I 
have  said,  and  even  that  he  had  established  therein 
no  order  or  proportion,  but  that  he  had  made  a 
chaos  the  most  confused  and  the  most  perplexed 
that  poets  could  describe,  they  would  be  sufficient 
to  cause  the  parts  of  this  chaos  to  disentangle  them- 
selves, and  to  arrange  themselves  in  such  good  order 
that  they  would  take  the  form  of  a  very  perfect 
world,  and  one  in  which  not  only  light  would  be 
seen,  but  also  all  other  things,  in  general  and  partic- 
ular, which  appear  in  this  real  world. 

But,  before  I  go  on  to  explain  this  more  at  length, 
pause  to  consider  yet  a  little  further  this  chaos,  and 
observe  that  it  contains  nothing  which  is  not  so  per- 
fectly known  to  you  that  you  cannot  even  pretend  to 
be  ignorant  of  it  ;  for  as  to  the  qualities  I  have  as- 
signed to  it,  if  you  have  attended,  you  have  noticed 
that  I  have  supposed  such  only  as  you  could  conceive. 


236  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

And  as  for  the  matter  of  which  I  have  composed  it, 
there  is  nothing  more  simple  or  more  easy  to  under- 
stand in  the  inanimate  world  ;  and  the  idea  of  it  is  so 
comprehended  in  all  those  objects  which  our  imagina- 
tion can  frame  that  it  must  necessarily  be  that  you 
conceive  it,  or  that  you  could  never  conceive  anything. 
Nevertheless,  since  philosophers  are  so  acute  that 
they  know  how  to  find  difficulties  in  things  which 
seem  extremely  clear  to  other  men,  and  the  recollec- 
tion of  their  primary  matter — which  they  know  to  be 
very  hard  to  conceive  of — might  prevent  them  from 
understanding  that  of  which  I  am  speaking,  I  must 
tell  them  just  here  that,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  the 
whole  difficulty  which  they  experience  in  regard  to  it 
arises  from  their  desire  to  distinguish  it  from  its 
quantity  and  extension,  that  is  to  say,  from  its  prop- 
erty of  occupying  space  ;  wherein,  indeed,  I  am  quite 
willing  that  they  should  think  themselves  to  be  right, 
for  I  do  not  mean  to  stop  to  refute  them ;  but  on 
their  part  they  ought  not  to  find  it  strange  if  I 
suppose  that  the  quantity  of  the  matter  which  I  have 
described  does  not  differ  from  its  substance  any  more 
than  number  does  from  things  numbered,  and  if  I 
conceive  its  extension, — or  its  property  of  occupying 
space, — not  at  all  as  an  accident,  but  as  its  true  form 
and  its  essence  ;  for  they  cannot  deny  that  it  is  very 
easy  to  conceive  it  in  this  way. 

And  my  purpose  is  not  to  explain,  like  them, 
things  which  really  exist  in  the  actual  world  ;  but 
simply  to  fancy  one  at  pleasure,  in  which  there  should 
be  nothing  which  the  dullest  minds  are  not  capable 
of  conceiving,  and  which  might  not,  nevertheless,  be 
created  just  as  I  have  imagined  it.  If  I  should  in- 
troduce therein  the  least  thing  which  should  prove 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  237 

obscure,  it  would  be  owing  to  the  fact  that  included 
in  that  obscurity  there  was  some  concealed  contradic- 
tion of  which  I  had  not  been  aware,  and  thus,  without 
knowing  it,  I  had  supposed  something  impossible  ; 
whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  if  I  am  able  distinctly  to 
conceive  all  I  include  in  it,  it  is  certain  that,  although 
there  may  be  nothing  like  it  in  the  old  [real]  world, 
God  might  nevertheless  create  it  in  a  new  one,  for  it 
is  certain  that  he  can  create  everything  we  can  con- 
ceive. 


238  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 


CHAPTER  VII. 
Of  the  natural  laws  of  this  new  world. 

BUT  I  will  not  longer  delay  to  tell  you  by  what 
reasons  nature  alone  will  be  able  to  disentangle  the 
confusion  of  the  chaos  of  which  I  have  spoken,  and 
what  are  the  laws  which  God  has  imposed  upon  it. 

Know,  then,  in  the  first  place,  that  by  nature  I  do 
not  here  understand  any  goddess  or  any  other  sort 
of  imaginary  power,  but  I  make  use  of  this  word  to 
signify  matter  itself,  in  so  far  as  I  consider  it  with  all 
the  qualities  I  have  attributed  to  it,  taken  as  a  whole, 
and  under  this  condition,  that  God  continues  to  pre- 
serve it  in  the  same  way  that  he  has  created  it  ;  for, 
from  the  simple  fact  that  he  continues  thus  to  preserve 
it,  it  necessarily  follows  that  there  must  be  many  changes 
in  its  parts,  which  not  being,  as  it  seems  to  me,  prop- 
erly attributed  to  the  Divine  activity, — because  that 
does  not  change, — I  attribute  them  to  nature  ;  and  the 
rules  in  accordance  with  which  these  changes  occur  I 
call  the  laws  of  nature. 

In  order  the  better  to  understand  this,  remember 
that  among  the  qualities  of  matter  we  have  supposed 
that  its  particles  have  had  various  motions  from  the 
instant  of  their  creation,  and,  besides  that,  they  are 
all  in  contact  on  every  side,  so  that  there  is  no  empty 
space  between  any  two  of  them  ;  whence  it  follows  of 
necessity  that  at  the  time  they  began  to  move  they 
began  to  change  also  and  to  vary  their  movements  as 
they  encountered  one  another  ;  and  thus,  even  if  God 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  J    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  239 

preserved  them  thereafter  in  the  same  manner  as  he 
created  them,  he  does  not  preserve  them  in  the  same 
condition — that  is  to  say,  while  God  always  acts  in  the 
same  way,  and  consequently  always  produces  the 
same  effect  in  substance,  there  result,  as  it  were  by 
accident,  many  diversities  in  this  effect.  'And  it  is 
easy  to  believe  that  God,  who,  as  everybody  ought  to 
know,  is  immutable,  acts  always  in  the  same  way. 
But  without  involving  myself  further  in  these  meta- 
physical considerations,  I  will  lay  down  two  or  threel 
principal  rules  in  accordance  with  which  it  must  bel 
thought  that  God  causes  the  nature  of  this  new  worldj 
to  act,  and  which  are  sufficient,  as  I  believe,  to  enable 
you  to  comprehend  all  the  rest. 

The  first  is,  that  each  individual  particle  of  matterf 
remains  always  in  one  and  the  same  state,  so  long  as* 
contact  with  others  does  not  compel  it  to  change  it ; 
that  is  to  say,  if  it  have  a  certain  magnitude  it  will 
never  become  smaller,  unless  others  divide  it ;  if  it  be 
round  or  square,  it  will  never  change  this  figure,  un- 
less the  rest  compel  it  to  do  so  ;  if  it  be  at  rest  in  any 
place,  it  will  never  leave  it,  unless  others  drive  it 
therefrom  ;  and  if  it  have  once  begun  to  move,  it  will 
continue  always  to  move  with  uniform  energy  until 
others  stop  or  retard  it. 

There  is  no  one  who  does  not  believe  that  this  same 
rule  is  of  force  in  the  old  [real]  world,  in  respect  to 
magnitude,  figure,  rest,  and  a  thousand  other  matters 
of  like  kind  ;  but  philosophers  have  made  an  excep- 
tion in  the  case  of  motion,  which  is,  nevertheless,  the 
thing  which  I  desire  most  expressly  to  include  in  it. 
Do  not  think,  however,  that  I  intend  to  oppose  them  : 
the  motion  of  which  they  speak  is  so  very  different  from 
that  which  I  have  in  mind,  it  may  easily  happen  that 


240  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

what  is  true  of  the  one  should  not  be  so  of  the  other. 
They  admit  themselves  that  the  nature  of  theirs  is 
very  little  understood,  and  to  render  it  intelligible  in 
any  way  they  have  been  unable  to  explain  it  more 
clearly  than  in  these  terms  :  motus  est  actus  entis  in 
potentia  prout  in  potentia  est,  which  are  so  obscure  to 
me  that  I  am  constrained  to  leave  them  here  in  their 
own  language,  because  I  cannot  interpret  them  (and 
indeed  these  words,  le  mouvement  est  Vacte  (Tun  fare 
en  puissance,  en  tant  quil  est  en  puissance,  are  no  clearer 
in  French).  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  nature  of 
the  motion  I  intend  here  to  speak  of  is  so  easy  to 
comprehend,  that  the  geometers  themselves,  who,  of 
all  men,  have  made  the  greatest  efforts  to  conceive 
very  distinctly  the  things  they  have  treated  of,  have 
judged  the  nature  of  motion  more  simple  and  more 
intelligible  than  that  of  their  surfaces  and  their  lines, 
as  appears  in  the  fact  that  they  have  explained  the 
line  by  the  motion  of  a  point,  and  the  surface  by  that 
of  a  line. 

The  philosophers  suppose,  also,  many  motions  which 
they  think  could  occur  without  a  body  changing  its 
place,  as  those  which  they  call  motus  adformam,  motus 
ad  calorem,  motus  ad  quantitatem  (motion  as  to  form, 
motion  as  to  heat,  motion  as  to  quantity),  and  a  thou- 
sand others  :  for  my  part,  I  know  of  none  more  easy 
to  conceive  than  the  lines  of  the  geometers,  which 
bodies  make  in  passing  from  one  place  to  another 
and  successively  occupying  all  the  spaces  between 
the  two. 

Besides,  they  attribute  to  the  least  of  these  motions 
an  existence  much  more  substantial  and  real  than 
they  do  to  rest,  which  they  say  is  merely  privation  ; 
for  my  part,  I  conceive  that  rest  is  as  much  a  quality 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  241 

to  be  attributed  to  matter,  so  long  as  it  remains  in  one 
place,  as  motion  is,  so  long  as  it  changes  its  place. 

Finally,  the  motion  of  which  they  speak  is  of  a 
nature  so  strange  that,  whereas  all  other  things  have 
for  their  end  their  perfection,  and  aim  only  to  pre- 
serve themselves,  this  has  no  other  end  or  aim  but 
rest,  and,  contrary  to  all  the  laws  of  nature,  it  aims  at 
its  own  destruction  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  that  which 
I  have  in  mind  follows  the  same  laws  of  nature  which 
bring  about  in  general  all  the  arrangements  and  all 
the  qualities  which  are  found  in  matter,  as  well  as 
those  which  the  learned  call  modos  et  cntia  rationiscum 
fundamento  in  re  (modes  and  entities  of  reason  with 
foundation  in  things),  together  with  qualitates  reales 
(real  qualities),  in  which  I  candidly  confess  that  I  find 
no  more  reality  than  in  the  rest. 

I  suppose,  for  the  second  rule,  that  when  one  body| 
impels  another,  it  cannot  impart  to  it  any  motionj 
without  at  the  same  time  losing  so  much  of  its  own, 
nor  take  from  it  but  so  much  as  its  own  is  thereby  in- 
creased. This  rule,  together  with  the  preceding, 
agrees  very  well  with  all  the  facts  which  we  observe 
when  a  body  begins  or  ceases  to  move,  on  account  of 
being  pushed  or  stopped  by  another.  For,  having  as- 
sumed the  preceding  rule,  we  are  free  from  the  diffi- 
culty in  which  the  learned  find  themselves  when  they 
wish  to  give  a  reason  why  a  stone  continues  to  move 
for  some  time  after  it  has  left  the  hand  of  one  who 
has  thrown  it ;  for  we  ought  rather  to  ask  ourselves 
why  it  should  not  continue  to  move  on  forever.  But 
the  reason  is  easy  to  give  ;  for  who  can  deny  that 
the  air  in  which  it  is  moving  offers  it  some  re- 
sistance ?  We  can  hear  the  air  whistle  when  it  is 
parted,  and  if  set  in  motion  by  a  fan,  or  any  other 


242  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

very  light  and  very  broad  body,  it  can  be  sensibly  felt 
by  the  hand  that  it  hinders  the  movement  rather  than 
helps  it,  as  some  would  have  us  say.  But  if  the  effect 
of  its  resistance  is  not  explained  according  to  our 
second  rule,  and  it  is  thought  that  the  more  a  body 
can  resist  the  more  capable  it  becomes  of  stopping 
the  movement  of  others,  as  perhaps  one  might  at  first 
be  inclined  to  think,  there  would  be  considerable  dif- 
ficulty in  giving  a  reason  why  the  movement  of  this 
stone  is  sooner  overcome  when  it  meets  a  soft  body, 
the  resistance  of  which  is  moderate,  than  when  it 
meets  a  harder  one  which  resists  it  more  ;  as,  also,  why, 
as  soon  as  it  has  made  a  slight  effort  against  this  last, 
it  instantly  returns  upon  its  path  rather  than  arrest  or 
interrupt  its  motion  on  account  of  it.  Whereas,  ad- 
mitting this  rule,  there  is  no  difficulty  at  all  ;  for  it 
instructs  us  that  the  motion  of  a  body  is  not  retarded 
on  meeting  another  in  proportion  to  the  degree  with 
which  this  resists  it,  but  only  in  proportion  to  the 
degree  in  which  its  own  resistance  of  it  is  overcome, 
and  that,  in  submitting  to  it,  it  receives  into  itself  the 
energy  of  motion  which  the  other  loses. 

Now,  although  in  most  of  the  movements  which  we 
observe  in  the  real  world,  we  might  not  perceive  that 
the  bodies  which  begin  or  cease  to  move  are  impelled 
or  arrested  by  any  others,  we  have  no  ground  on  that 
account  to  conclude  that  these  two  rules  are  not  ex- 
actly observed  ;  for  it  is  certain  that  these  bodies  may 
frequently  be  set  in  motion  by  the  two  elements  of  air 
and  fire,  which  are  always  intermixed  with  them, 
though  they  cannot  be  perceived  there,  as  was  said  a 
while  ago  ;  or  even  by  this  grosser  atmosphere,  which 
also  cannot  be  perceived  ;  and  that  they  may  be  able 
to  transmit  it  presently  to  this  grosser  air,  and  again 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  J    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  243 

to  the  whole  mass  of  the  earth,  in  which,  being  dis- 
persed, it  may  also  not  be  perceived. 

But  although  all  that  our  senses  have  ever  experi- 
enced in  the  real  world  might  appear  contrary  to 
these  two  rules,  the  reason  which  has  indicated 
them  to  me  seems  so  strong  that  I  cannot  help 
thinking  myself  obliged  to  admit  them  in  the  new  one 
which  I  am  describing  to  you  ;  for  what  firmer  or 
more  solid  foundation  could  be  found  to  establish  a 
truth,  although  one  were  at  liberty  to  choose  what  he 
would,  than  the  constancy  and  immutability  of  God  ? 

Now  these  two  rules  follow  manifestly  from  the 
simple  fact  that  God  is  immutable,  and  that,  acting 
always  in  the  same  way,  he  produces  always  the  same 
effect :  for  granting  that  he  has  put  a  certain  quantity 
of  motion  into  all  matter  universally  at  the  first  in- 
stant  that  he  created  it,  it  must  be  admitted  that  he 
also  preserves  as  much  of  it  there,  or  else  it  cannot  be 
thought  that  he  acts  always  in  the  same  way  ;  and 
granting  with  this  that  from  that  first  instant  the  va- 
rious parts  of  matter,  in  which  these  motions  are  found 
unequally  distributed,  have  begun  to  retain  them  or 
to  transfer  them  one  to  another,  according  as  they 
had  power  to  do,  it  must  necessarily  be  thought  that 
he  makes  them  always  continue  to  do  the  same  thing  ; 
and  this  is  what  these  two  rules  contain. 

I  will  add,  for  the  third,  that  when  a  body  moves, 
although  its  movement  is  most  frequently  in  a  curved 
line,  and  can  never  be  otherwise  than  circular  in  some 
.  degree,  as  has  been  said  above,  nevertheless  each  one 
of  its  particles  in  particular  tends  always  to  continue 
its  own  motion  in  a  straight  line.  And  so  their  action 
— that  is  to  say,  their  inclination  to  move — is  different 
from  their  movemen" 


244  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  III 

For  example,  if  a  wheel  be  turned  on  its  axle, 
although  all  its  parts  move  in  a  circle,  because  being 
joined  together  they  could  not  move  otherwise,  never- 
theless their  tendency  is  to  move  in  a  right  line,  as 
plainly  appears  if  by  chance  any  one  is  detached  from 
the  rest  ;  for  as  soon  as  it  is  set  free,  its  movement 
ceases  to  be  circular,  and  it  continues  on  in  a  straight 
line.  Likewise,  when  a  stone  is  whirled  in  a  sling, 
not  only  does  it  go  in  a  straight  line  as  soon  as  it 
leaves  it,  but  further,  all  the  time  it  is  in  it,  it  presses 
upon  the  center  of  the  sling,  and  stretches  the  cord, 
thus  showing  plainly  that  it  always  has  a  tendency  to 
go  in  a  straight  line,  and  that  it  moves  in  a  circle  only 
by  constraint. 

This  rule  rests  on  the  same  foundation  as  the  other 
two,  and  depends  only  on  the  fact  that  God  preserves 
each  thing  by  one  continuous  activity,  and  that,  conse- 
quently, he  does  not  preserve  it  such  as  it  may  have 
been  some  time  before,  but  precisely  such  as  it  is 
at  the  very  instant  that  he  preserves  it.  Now  the 
case  is  that,  among  all  movements,  that  which  is  in  a 
straight  line  is  the  only  one  which  is  entirely  simple, 
and  one  the  whole  nature  of  which  may  be  embraced  in  a 
single  instant;  for,  in  order  to  conceive  it,  it  is  enough 
to  think  of  a  body  actually  moving  in  one  fixed  direc- 
tion, which  is  the  case  in  every  one  of  the  instants 
which  can  be  determined  during  the  time  it  is  in 
motion  ;  whereas,  to  conceive  circular  movement,  or 
any  other  that  can  exist,  it  is  necessary  to  consider  at 
least  two  of  these  instants,  or  rather  two  of  its  parts, 
and  the  relation  between  them  ;  but  in  order  that 
philosophers,  or  sophists  rather,  may  not  take  occasion 
here  to  practice  their  superfluous  subtleties,  notice 
that  I  do  not  say  that  movement  in  a  straight  line  can 


PHYSICS]    THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  245 

take  place  in  an  instant,  but  simply  that  all  that  is  re- 
quired to  produce  it  exists  in  the  body  in  every  in- 
stant which  can  be  determined  during  its  movement, 
and  not  all  that  is  required  to  produce  the  cir- 
cular  It  must  then  be  said,  according  to 

this  rule,  that  God  alone  is  the  author  of  all  the  move- 
ments in  the  universe,  in  so  far  as  they  exist,  and  in 
so  far  as  they  are  in  straight  lines;  but  that  there  are 
various  arrangements  of  matter  which  render  them 
irregular  and  curved,  just  as  theologians  teach  us  that 
God  is  the  author  of  all  our  actions,  in  so  far  as  they 
exist,  and  in  so  far  as  they  have  any  goodness  in 
them,  but  that  it  is  the  various  dispositions  of  our 
wills  which  make  them  bad. 

I  might  add  here  many  rules  to  determine  in  par- 
ticular when,  and  how,  and  how  much  the  movement 
of  any  body  can  be  deflected,  and  increased  or  di- 
minished, by  meeting  others,  in  which  are  summarily 
comprehended  all  natural  phenomena  ;  but  I  shall 
content  myself  with  informing  you  that,  besides  the 
three  laws  which  I  have  explained,  I  do  not  intend  to 
assume  any  others  except  those  which  follow  infalli- 
bly from  the  eternal  verities  upon  which  mathema- 
ticians are  wont  to  found  their  most  certain  and  most 
evident  demonstrations ;  those  verities,  I  say,  in  ac- 
cordance with  which  God  himself  has  taught  us  that 
he  has  disposed  all  things  by  number,  weight,  and 
measure,  and  the  knowledge  of  which  is  so  natural  to 
our  minds  that  we  cannot  help  knowing  them  infallibly 
when  we  conceive  them  distinctly,  nor  doubting  that, 
had  God  created  many  worlds,  they  would  be  no  less 
true  in  all  than  in  this. 

So  that  those  who  shall  have  sufficiently  examined 
the  consequences  of  these  verities,  and  of  our  rules, 


246  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

will  be  able  to  know  effects  by  their  causes,  and,  to 
express  myself  in  the  language  of  the  school,  may 
have  a  priori  demonstrations  of  all  that  can  come  to 
pass  in  this  new  world.  And,  in  order  that  there  may 
be  no  exception  whatever  to  embarrass  us,  we  will  add 
to  our  assumptions,  if  you  please,  that  God  will  never 
work  any  miracle  there,  and  that  the  intelligences,  or 
reasonable  minds,  which  we  shall  hereafter  assume  to 
be  there,  will  never  interfere  in  any  way  with  the 
ordinary  course  of  nature.  In  what  follows,  never- 
theless, I  do  not  promise  to  place  before  you  exact 
demonstrations  of  all  that  I  have  to  say;  it  will  be 
enough  that  I  open  the  way  by  which  you  shall  be  able 
to  find  them  out  for  yourselves,  when  you  will  take 
pains  to  seek  them.  Most  minds  are  displeased  when 
things  are  made  too  easy  for  them.  And  to  paint  a 
picture  here  which  shall  please  you,  I  must  make  use 
of  shadows  as  well  as  colors.  Accordingly,  I  shall  con- 
tent myself  with  following  out  the  description  which 
I  have  begun,  having  no  other  design  than  to  tell  you 
a  story. 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;   OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  247 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

Of  the  formation  of  the  sun  and  the  stars  of  this 
new  world. 

WHATEVER  inequality  and  confusion  we  might  sup- 
pose God  had  introduced  at  the  beginning  among 
the  particles  of  matter,  it  is  necessary,  according  to  the 
laws  which  he  has  imposed  upon  nature,  that  nearly 
all  of  them  should  afterward  be  reduced  to  one  size 
and  one  moderate  motion,  and  thus  that  they  should 
take  the  form  of  the  second  element,  such  as  I  have 
explained  it  above.  For,  considering  this  matter  in 
the  state  in  which  it  might  have  been  before  God  had 
set  it  in  motion,  it  should  be  conceived  of  as  being 
like  the  hardest  and  most  solid  body  in  the  world. 
And  as  one  could  not  push  a  single  particle  of  such  a 
body  without  also,  by  the  same  means,  pushing  or 
drawing  all  the  rest,  so  it  must  be  thought  that  the 
action  or  force  of  motion,  or  division,  which  at  the 
first  had  been  placed  in  any  of  its  particles,  would 
have  expanded  and  distributed  itself  at  the  same 
instant  to  all  the  rest  as  uniformly  as  possible. 

It  is  true  that  this  uniformity  could  not  have  been 
absolutely  perfect,  for,  in  the  first  place,  because 
there  is  no  void  at  all  in  this  world,  it  would  have 
been  impossible  that  all  the  particles  of  matter  should 
move  in  a  straight  line  ;  but  being  very  nearly  equal, 
and  one  being  almost  as  easily  deflected  as  another, 
they  should  all  agree  together  in  a  circular  motion  of 
some  sort.  And  nevertheless,  inasmuch  as  we  sup- 


248  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

pose  that  God  has  moved  them  variously  at  the  first, 
we  must  not  think  that  they  would  all  agree  in  re- 
volving about  a  single  center,  but  about  many  differ- 
ent ones,  which  we  may  conceive  of  as  being  differently 
situated  with  respect  to  one  another. 

Accordingly,  we  must  conclude  that  they  would 
naturally  be  in  less  rapid  motion,  or  smaller,  or  both 
at  once,  in  the  places  nearer  these  centers  than  in  those 
more  remote  :  for  all  having  a  disposition  to  continue 
their  movement  in  a  straight  line,  it  is  certain  that 
those  are  the  strongest — that  is,  the  largest,  among 
those  which  may  be  equally  swift  in  their  motion,  and 
the  swiftest  among  those  which  may  be  equal  in  size — 
which  have  to  describe  the  greater  circles,  as  being 
the  nearest  to  the  straight  line.  And  as  for  the 
matter  contained  between  three  or  more  of  these 
circles,  it  might  well  be  at  first  much  less  divided  and 
less  swift  in  its  motion  than  all  the  rest  ;  and  what  is 
more,  inasmuch  as  we  suppose  that  God  at  the  begin- 
ning has  put  all  sorts  of  inequality  into  the  different 
parts  of  this  matter,  we  ought  to  think  that  from  that 
time  it  has  had  all  sorts  of  sizes  and  shapes,  and  has 
been  disposed  to  move,  or  not  to  move,  in  every  way 
and  manner. 

But  this  does  not  prevent  them  afterward  becoming 
nearly  all  uniform,  especially  those  which  remain  at 
an  equal  distance  from  the  centers  around  which  they 
revolve  ;  for,  being  unable  to  move  independently,  it 
was  necessary  that  the  swifter  communicate  of  their 
motion  to  those  which  had  less,  and  that  the  greater 
break  up  and  divide,  in  order  to  be  able  to  pass  over 
the  same  spaces  as  those  which  preceded  them,  or,  at 
least,  that  they  mount  higher ;  and  thus  they  would 
arrange  themselves,  in  a  short  time,  all  in  order,  so 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  249 

that  each  one  would  find  itself  more  or  less  distant 
from  the  center  around  which  it  had  taken  its  course, 
according  as  it  had  more  or  less  of  size  or  swiftness 
than  the  rest ;  and  also,  inasmuch  as  size  always  con- 
flicts with  speed,  it  must  be  thought  that  the  most 
distant  from  each  center  were  those  which,  being  a 
little  smaller  than  those  nearer,  have  been  also  much 
swifter. 

The  same  would  be  true  of  their  figures.  Although 
we  may  suppose  that  these  at  the  beginning  were  of 
every  sort,  and  that  they  had,  for  the  most  part,  many 
angles  and  many  sides,  like  the  pieces  which  split  off 
from  a  stone  when  it  is  broken,  it  is  certain  that 
afterward,  in  moving  and  striking  against  one  an- 
other, they  would  have  rubbed  off,  little  by  little,  the 
small  points  of  their  angles,  and  blunted  the  edges  of 
their  sides,  until  they  became  by  degrees  almost  all 
round,  as  grains  of  sand  and  flint  do  when  rolled 
about  in  running  water  ;  so  that  there  might  not  now 
be  any  noticeable  difference  between  those  which  are 
near  enough  together,  nor  even  between  those  which 
are  very  distant,  except  in  the  fact  that  they  can  move 
a  little  faster,  and  be  a  little  smaller  or  larger,  one  than 
the  other  ;  and  this  does  not  prevent  our  attributing 
to  all  of  them  the  same  form.  Only  an  exception 
must  be  made  of  some  which,  having  been  from  the 
first  much  larger  than  the  rest,  have  not  so  easily  be- 
come divided,  or  which,  having  had  very  irregular  and 
resistant  shapes,  have  tended  to  unite  in  a  mass  rather 
than  to  break  up  and  become  round,  and  thus  they 
have  retained  the  form  of  the  third  element,  and 
have  served  to  compose  the  planets  and  the  comets, 
as  I  shall  hereafter  explain  to  you. 

Further,  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  matter  which  has 


250  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

come  off  from  the  surface  of  the  parts  of  the  second 
element,  in  proportion  as  they  have  broken  up  and 
blunted  the  sharp  corners  of  their  angles  in  becoming 
round,  has  necessarily  acquired  a  motion  much  swifter 
than  theirs,  and  at  the  same  time  a  facility  of  dividing 
and  changing  its  shape  at  every  moment  to  accom- 
modate itself  to  that  of  the  places  where  it  happens 
to  be,  and  so  it  has  taken  the  form  of  the  first  element. 
It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  what  there  is  of  this  first 
element,  more  than  is  needed  to  fill  the  small  inter- 
spaces that  the  particles  of  the  second,  which  are 
spherical,  necessarily  leave  around  them,  must  move 
toward  the  centers  about  which  they  [the  particles  of 
the  second  element]  revolve,  because  these  occupy  all 
the  other  places  more  distant,  and  that  it  must  there 
form  round  bodies  perfectly  liquid  and  rare,  which, 
turning  incessantly  much  more  rapidly  and  in  the 
same  direction  as  the  particles  of  the  second  element 
which  environ  them,  have  power  to  increase  the  mo- 
tion of  those  to  which  they  are  nearest,  and  also  to 
push  them  all  in  every  direction,  drawing  them  from 
the  center  toward  the  circumference,  so  that  they  also 
push  one  another,  and  this  by  a  mode  of  action  which 
it  is  necessary  that  I  presently  describe  as  exactly  as 
I  am  able  to  do  ;  for  I  apprise  you  here  in  advance 
that  it  is  this  action  which  we  take  to  be  light,  just  as 
we  take  those  round  bodies  composed  of  matter  of 
the  first  element  quite  pure,  the  one  to  be  the  sun,  the 
others  to  be  the  fixed  stars,  of  the  new  world  I  am  de- 
scribing to  you,  and  the  matter  of  the  second  element, 
which  revolves  around  them,  to  be  the  heavens 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  251 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Of  the  origin  and  course  of  the  planets  and  comets  in 
general,  and  in  particular  of  the  comets. 

Now, — to  begin  to  speak  to  you  of  the  planets  and 
comets, — consider  that  as  respects  the  diversity  o.~  the 
parts  of  the  matter  which  I  have  assumed,  although 
the  larger  part  of  them,  through  clashing  and  breaking 
up  on  encountering  one  another,  would  take  the  form 
of  the  first  or  second  element,  there  would  still  be 
found  two  sorts  which  have  necessarily  retained  the 
form  of  the  third,  namely,  those  whose  figure  was  so 
extended  and  so  resistant  that,  on  meeting  one  an- 
other, it  was  easier  for  several  of  them  to  join  together 
and  by  this  means  to  become  larger,  than  to  break  up 
and  become  smaller ;  and  those  which  were  from  the 
beginning  the  largest  and  most  massive  of  all  were 
well  able  to  break  and  shatter  the  others  on  striking 
them,  but  not,  reciprocally,  to  be  broken  and  shattered. 
If  now,  you  should  conceive  that  these  two  sorts  of 
parts  were  at  first  in  very  rapid  motion,  or  even  that 
they  moved  very  slowly,  or  not  at  all,  it  is  certain  that 
afterward  they  would  have  to  move  at  the  same  rate 
as  the  matter  of  the  heavens  which  contained  them  ; 
for,  if  at  first  they  were  moved  more  swiftly  than  this 
matter,  as  they  would  unavoidably  push  it  forward  as 
they  encountered  it  in  their  path,  they  must  in  a  short 
time  have  transferred  to  it  a  part  of  their  own  mo- 
mentum  ;  and  if,  on  the  contrary,  they  had  not  in 
themselves  any  disposition  to  move,  nevertheless, 


252  THE   PHILOSOPHY   OF   DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

being  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  this  matter  of  the 
heavens,  they  would  necessarily  have  followed  its 
course ;  just  as  we  see  every  day  that  boats  and 
various  other  bodies  which  float  upon  the  water,  the 
largest  and  most  massive,  as  well  as  the  smallest,  fol- 
low the  current  of  the  water  in  which  they  are,  when- 
ever there  is  nothing  else  to  prevent  them. 

And  observe  that,  among  the  various  bodies  which 
thus  float  upon  the  water,  those  which  are  solid  and 
massive  enough,  as  boats  commonly  are,  especially 
the  larger  and  more  heavily  laden,  have  always  much 
more  force  than  it  to  continue  their  movement,  even 
though  it  may  be  from  it  alone  that  they  have  received 
it  ;  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  those  which  are  very 
light,  such  as  the  masses  of  white  foam  which  are  seen 
floating  along  on  rivers  during  a  storm,  have  less  of 
it.  So  that  if  you  imagine  two  rivers  which  unite  at 
a  certain  point  and  separate  soon  after,  before  their 
waters,  which  must  be  conceived  as  very  calm  and 
quite  uniform  in  force,  but  also  very  rapid,  have  had 
time  to  mingle,  boats  or  other  bodies  massive  and 
heavy  enough,  which  are  carried  along  by  the  current 
of  one,  might  easily  pass  into  the  other,  whereas  the 
lighter  ones  would  keep  separate  from  it,  and  be  borne 
by  the  force  ot  this  stream  toward  parts  where  it  is 
less  rapid 

From  this  illustration  it  is  easy  to  understand  that, 
in  whatever  place  there  may  be  found,  at  the  begin- 
ning, parts  of  matter  which  could  not  take  the  form 
of  the  second  element,  nor  of  the  first,  all  the  largest 
and  most  massive  among  them  would  have  been  com- 
pelled in  a  short  time  to  take  their  course  toward  the 
outer  circle  of  the  heavens  which  contain  them,  and 
to  pass  continually  thereafter  from  one  of  these 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.          253 

heavens  into  another,  without  ever  stopping  for  any 
long  time  together  in  the  same  heavens  ;  and  that,  on 
the  contrary,  all  the  less  massive  must  have  been 
pushed  in  turn  toward  the  center  of  the  heavens 
which  contained  them,  by  the  current  of  the  matter 
of  those  heavens ;  and  that,  considering  the  forms  I 
have  attributed  to  them,  they  must,  on  meeting,  have 
united  themselves  many  of  them  together,  and  formed 
those  great  globes  which,  revolving  in  the  heavens, 
have  there  a  motion  the  resultant  of  all  those  which 
their  parts  would  have  when  moving  separately,  so 
that  some  of  them  would  tend  toward  the  circum- 
ferences of  these  heavens,  and  others  toward  their 
centers.  And  understand  that  it  is  those  which 
tend  thus  to  move  toward  the  center  of  any  heavens 
that  we  must  here  call  the  planets,  and  those  which 
pass  across  the  different  heavens  we  must  call 
comets. 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  in  regard  to  the  comets,  it 
must  be  observed  that  there  would  be  but  few  of  them 
in  this  new  world,  in  comparison  to  the  number  of 
the  heavens  ;  for  although,  indeed,  there  might  have 
been  many  of  them  at  the  beginning,  they  must,  in 
course  of  time,  in  their  passage  across  the  different 
heavens,  nearly  all  of  them  have  struck  against  one 
another  and  gone  to  pieces,  as  I  have  said  two  vessels 
might  do  by  running  into  one  another,  so  that  only 
the  biggest  might  now  remain.  It  is  necessary,  also,  to 
observe  that,  when  they  pass  thus  from  one  heaven 
into  another,  they  always  push  before  themselves  a 
little  of  the  matter  of  that  which  they  leave,  and  re- 
main for  some  time  enveloped  in  it,  until  they  have 
entered  pretty  well  within  the  borders  of  the  next 
heavens  ;  on  being  there,  they  finally  free  themselves 


254  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

of  it  all  at  once,  as  it  were,  and  without  taking  any 
more  time  perhaps  than  the  sun  does  to  rise  in  the 
morning  above  our  horizon  ;  so  that  they  move  much 
more  slowly  when  they  tend  to  pass  out  of  any  heaven 
than  they  do  a  little  after  entering  it.  ... 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  255 


CHAPTER  X. 

Of  the  planets  in  general,  and  in  particular  of  the  earth 
and  the  moon. 

THERE  are,  likewise,  in  regard  to  the  planets, 
many  things  to  be  noted:  the  first  of  which  is  that, 
although  they  all  tend  toward  the  centers  of  the 
heavens  which  contain  them,  they  never  can  reach 
those  centers  ;  for,  as  I  have  already  said  above,  it  is 
the  sun  and  the  fixed  stars  which  occupy  them 

If  I  have  not  yet  made  you  sufficiently  understand 
the  cause  which  makes  the  parts  of  the  heaven  which 
are  outside  [the  orbits  of  the  planets],  being  incom- 
parably smaller  than  the  planets,  have  greater  power 
than  these  to  continue  their  movement  in  a  straight 
line,  consider  that  this  force  does  not  depend  solely 
on  the  quantity  of  the  matter  in  each  body,  but  also 
on  the  extent  of  its  surface.  For  although  when  two 
bodies  are  moving  with  equal  velocity,  it  may  be  cor- 
rect to  say  that  if  one  contain  twice  as  much  matter 
as  the  other,  it  has,  also,  twice  as  much  momentum  ; 
it  cannot  on  that  account  be  said  that  it  has  twice 
as  much  power  to  continue  to  move  in  a  straight  line  ; 
but  it  will  have  just  twice  as  much  if,  along  with  that, 
its  surface  be  exactly  twice  as  great,  because  it  will 
always  meet  twice  as  many  other  bodies  which  will 
resist  it ;  and  it  will  have  much  less  if  its  surface  is 
much  more  than  twice  as  great. 

Now  you  know  that  the  particles  which  compose  the 
heavens  are  almost  quite  spherical,  and  so  they  have 


256  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  III 

that  figure  which  of  all  others  contains  the  most  matter 
within  the  least  surface  ;  and  that,  on  the  contrary,  the 
planets,  being  composed  of  small  parts  which  are  of 
very  irregular  and  extended  figure,  have  great  surface 
in  proportion  to  the  quantity  of  their  matter,  so  that 
they  may  have  much  more  than  most  of  the  parts 
of  the  heaven,  and  yet  also  have  less  than  some  of 
the  smaller  parts  and  those  nearer  the  centers  ;  for 
it  must  be  understood  that,  as  between  two  globes 
quite  solid — as  are  those  parts  of  the  heaven — the 
smaller  has  always  more  surface,  in  proportion  to  its 
quantity,  than  the  larger  has. 

And  all  this  may  easily  be  confirmed  by  experience. 
For  if  a  great  globe,  made  of  the  boughs  of  trees 
all  matted  together,  as  the  parts  of  the  matter  com- 
posing the  planets  may  be  conceived  as  being,  should 
be  set  in  motion,  it  is  certain  that  it  would  not  con- 
tinue its  movement  so  far,  although  impelled  by  a 
force  entirely  proportionate  to  its  size,  as  would  an- 
other globe  much  smaller  and  made  of  the  same  wood, 
but  quite  solid  ;  it  is  certain,  also,  quite  to  the  con- 
trary, that  another  globe  might  be  made  of  the  same 
wood  and  quite  solid,  but  which  should  be  so  ex- 
tremely small  that  it  would  have  much  less  power  to 
continue  its  movement  than  the  first  ;  finally,  it  is 
certain  that  this  first  would  have  more  or  less  power 
to  continue  its  movement,  according  as  the  boughs 
which  composed  it  were  more  or  less  large  and  com- 
pacted together.  From  this  you  see  how  different 
planets  may  be  suspended  within  the  outermost  circle 
at  different  distances  from  the  sun,  and  how  it  is  not 
those  simply  which  appear  the  largest  outside,  but 
those  which  are  in  their  interior  most  solid  and  mas- 
sive, which  must  be  the  more  distant. 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  257 

It  is  to  be  observed,  further,  that  as  we  find  that 
boats  which  follow  the  current  of  a  river  never  move 
so  swiftly  as  the  water  which  bears  them,  nor  the 
largest  among  them  so  fast  as  the  smallest ;  so, 
although  the  planets  follow  the  course  of  the  matter 
of  the  heavens  without  resistance,  and  move  by  the 
same  impetus  as  that,  it  cannot  be  said,  on  that  ac- 
count, that  they  ever  move  so  swiftly  ;  and,  also,  the 
inequality  of  their  movement  must  have  some  relation 
to  that  which  exists  between  the  greatness  of  their 
mass  and  the  smallness  of  the  parts  of  the  heavens 
which  environ  them.  The  reason  of  which  is  this, 
that,  generally  speaking,  the  larger  a  body  is,  the  easier 
it  is  for  it  to  communicate  a  part  of  its  motion  to 
other  bodies,  and  the  more  difficult  for  other  bodies 
to  communicate  to  it  any  of  theirs  ;  for  although  many 
small  bodies,  when  combining  together  to  act  upon  a 
greater,  might  have  as  much  force  as  it,  nevertheless 
they  never  could  make  it  move  so  fast  in  every  way 
as  they  move  themselves  ;  because,  if  they  agree  in 
certain  of  their  movements  which  they  communicate 
to  it  at  the  same  time,  they  inevitably  differ  in 
others  which  they  do  not  communicate  to  it. 

Now,  there  follow  from  this  two  things,  which 
seem  to  me  to  be  of  considerable  importance  :  the 
first  is  that  the  matter  of  the  heavens  must  not  only 
cause  the  planets  to  revolve  about  the  sun,  but  also 
about  their  own  center  (except  when  there  is  any  par- 
ticular cause  to  hinder  them),  and,  accordingly,  that  it 
must  be  composed  of  small  heavens  around  them 
which  move  in  the  same  way  as  the  greater.  And  the 
second  is  that,  if  there  meet  together  two  planets  un- 
equal in  size,  but  so  situated  as  to  take  their  course 
in  the  heavens  at  the  same  distance  from  the  sun,  so 


258  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  III 

that  one  were  exactly  so  much  more  solid  than  the 
other  was  large,  the  smaller  of  these  two,  having  a 
motion  more  rapid  than  the  larger,  will  unite  itself 
with  the  small  heaven  which  is  around  this  larger  one 
and  revolve  continually  with  it.*  .... 

*  This  celebrated  theory  of  the  vortices  (les  tourbillons)  is  more 
fully  set  forth,  and  illustrated  by  diagrams,  in  Les  Principes  de  la 
Philosophie,  iii,  §§  30-157  (CEuvres,  t.  3,  pp.  198-329). 


PHYSICS]     THE  WORLD  ;  OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  259 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Of  Gravity. 

BUT  I  desire  now  that  you  consider  what  the 
gravity  of  this  earth  is,  that  is  to  say,  the  force  which 
unites  all  its  parts,  and  which  makes  them  all  tend 
toward  its  center,  everyone  more  or  less  according  as 
they  are  more  or  less  large  and  solid  ;  which  is 
nothing  else  and  consists  only  in  this,  that  the  parts 
of  the  small  heaven  which  surrounds  it,  turning  much 
more  swiftly  than  its  own  do  around  its  center,  tend 
also  with  much  more  force  to  withdraw  themselves 
from  it,  and  consequently  push  them  back  there. 

In  which  if  you  find  any  difficulty  from  the  fact 
that  I  have  said  so  many  times  that  the  more  massive 
and  solid  bodies,  such  as  I  have  assumed  the  comets 
to  be,  would  tend  toward  the  circumference  of  these 
heavens,  and  it  would  be  only  the  less  so  which 
would  be  pushed  back  toward  their  centers,  as  if  it 
should  follow  from  that  it  would  be  only  the  less  solid 
parts  of  the  earth  which  could  be  pushed  toward  its 
center,  and  the  others  would  necessarily  withdraw 
from  it ;  observe  that,  when  I  said  that  the  most  solid 
and  massive  bodies  tend  to  withdraw  from  the  center 
of  a  heaven,  I  assumed  that  they  were  moving  already 
with  the  same  impetus  as  the  matter  of  that  heaven  : 
because  it  is  certain  that  if  they  had  not  yet  begun  to 
move,  or  if  they  were  in  motion,  provided  this  motion 
were  less  rapid  than  was  necessary  to  follow  the 
current  of  this  matter,  they  must  be  forced  by  it 


260  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

toward  the  center  around  which  it  turned  ;  and,  also, 
it  is  certain  that,  in  proportion  as  they  were  greater 
and  more  solid,  they  would  be  pushed  with  more 
force  and  swiftness. 

And  nevertheless,  this  would  not  prevent  that,  if 
they  were  solid  enough  to  compose  comets,  they 
would  tend  but  little  toward  the  exterior  circles  of  the 
heavens,  inasmuch  as  the  energy  which  they  should 
have  acquired  in  descending  toward  any  one  of 
their  centers  would  inevitably  impart  to  them  force 
to  pass  beyond  it  and  reascend  toward  its  circum- 
ference  

Now  it  is  evident  that  a  stone,  containing  in  itself 
more  of  the  matter  of  the  earth,  and  in  return  contain- 
ing  much  less  of  that  of  the  heaven,  than  a  quantity  of 
air  of  equal  extent,  and  also  its  parts  being  less  im- 
pelled by  the  matter  of  this  heaven  than  that  of  this  air, 
it  would  not  have  power  to  mount  above  it,  but  rather, 
on  the  contrary,  it  would  have  power  to  make  this 
descend  below  it,  so  that  the  air  would  be  light  when 
compared  with  the  stone ;  but  heavy  when  com- 
pared with  the  heaven  itself 

And  you  can  understand  from  this  that  the  argu- 
ments which  many  philosophers  employ,  to  refute  the 
motion  of  the  real  earth,  have  no  force  at  all  against 
that  of  the  earth  which  I  am  describing  to  you  ; 
as  when  they  say  that  if  the  earth  were  in  motion 
heavy  bodies  would  not  fall  plumb  toward  its  center, 
but  rather  would  stray  this  way  and  that  toward  the 
sky,  and  that  cannon  pointed  toward  the  west  would 
carry  much  further  than  when  pointed  toward  the 
east,  and  that  great  winds  would  be  felt  and  great 
noises  heard  in  the  air,  and  such  like  things,  which 
could  happen  only  on  the  supposition  that  the  earth 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  261 

is  not  carried  forward  by  the  current  of  the  heaven 
which  surrounds  it,  but  is  moved  by  some  other  force 
and  in  some  other  way  than  this  heaven  moves. 

[Chapter  xii.,  Of  the  Ebb  and  Flow  of  the  Sea,  requiring  dia- 
grams, is  omitted.] 


262  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Of  Light. 

I  HAVE  repeatedly  said  that  bodies  which  revolve 
in  a  circle  tend  always  to  withdraw  from  the  centers 
of  the  circles  which  they  describe  ;  but  I  must  here 
determine  more  precisely  in  what  directions  the  parts 
of  the  matter  of  which  the  heavens  and  the  stars  are 
composed  have  a  tendency  to  move.  And  accord- 
ingly, it  must  be  understood  that  when  I  speak  of  a 
body  tending  to  move  in  any  direction,  I  do  not 
wish  it  to  be  supposed  on  that  account  that  it  has  in 
it  any  thought  or  design  which  carries  it  hither,  but 
simply  that  it  is  disposed  to  move  that  way,  whether 
it  actually  does  move  thither,  or  some  other  body 
prevents  it  from  doing  so  ;  and  it  is  principally  in  this 
latter  signification  that  I  employ  the  word  "  tend," 
because  it  seems  to  signify  some  effort,  and  all  effort 
presupposes  resistance.  Now,  inasmuch  as  there  are 
often  various  causes  which,  acting  together  upon  the 
same  body,  counteract  one  another,  it  may  be  said, 
for  various  reasons,  that  the  same  body  tends  to  move 
in  different  directions  at  the  same  time,  as  has  just 
been  said  that  the  particles  of  the  earth  tend  to  with- 
draw from  its  center,  so  long  as  they  are  considered 
independently,  and  that  they  tend  on  the  contrary  to 
approach  it  when  the  force  of  the  particles  of  the 
heavens  which  push  them  thither  is  considered  ;  and 
again  that  they  tend  to  withdraw  from  it  when  con- 
trasted with  other  terrestrial  particles  which  compose 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  263 

bodies  more  massive  than  they  are.  As,  for  example, 
a  stone  whirled  in  a  sling.*  .... 

Still  further  I  replyf  that  their  other  motions 
which  continue  in  them  [the  particles  of  the  second 
element],  while  thus  advancing  toward  the  circum- 
ference, not  allowing  them  to  remain  a  single  instant 
arranged  in  the  same  way,  prevent  them  from  com- 
ing in  contact,  or  at  least  cause  that  as  soon  as 
they  touch  they  instantly  separate  again,  and  thus 
they  do  not  cease  to  advance  without  interruption 
toward  the  circumference  until  the  whole  space  is 
filled.  Accordingly  we  can  draw  from  this  no  other 
conclusion  than  that  the  force  by  which  they  tend 
toward  [the  circumference]  is  probably,  as  it  were,  a 
tremulous  one,  and  increases  and  diminishes  in  vary- 
ing minute  vibrations,  according  as  they  change  their 
situation,  which  seems  to  me  a  property  very  well 

agreeing  with  light Finally,  the  particles  of 

the  first  element  which  .  .  .  compose  the  body  of  the 
sun,  revolving  in  a  circular  manner  very  swiftly  about 
[its  center],  tend  to  scatter  themselves  in  every  direc- 
tion in  straight  lines As  for  the  rest,  although 

they  must  thus  advance  toward  [the  circumference] 
if  this  space  be  occupied  only  by  the  first  element,  it 
is  certain  that  they  tend  to  move  thither  just  the  same 
if  it  be  filled  with  any  other  body,  and  that,  conse- 
quently, they  push  and  strive  against  this  body,  as  it 
were,  to  drive  it  from  its  place.  So  that  if  the  eye  of 
a  man  should  be  at  [a  point  in  this  circumference]  it 
would  be  really  pushed  upon  by  the  sun  as  much  as 
by  any  of  the  matter  [in  the  intervening  space.]  Now 

*  The  various  tendencies  to  move  in  different  directions  are 
then  described  and  illustrated  by  diagrams. 

f  In  response  to  an  objection  suggested  by  the  author  himself. 


264  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARl'ES.     [PART  III 

it  is  to  be  understood  that  the  inhabitants  of  this 
new  world  are  of  such  a  nature  that,  when  their 
eyes  are  thus  pushed  upon,  they  have  a  sensation 
in  every  respect  resembling  that  which  we  have  of 
light. 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  265 


CHAPTER  XIV. 
Of  the  properties  of  light. 

BUT  I  wish  to  delay  a  little  longer  at  this  point  to  ex- 
plain the  properties  of  the  energy  (de  I' action)  by  which 
their  eyes  can  be  excited.  For  they  agree  so  perfectly 
with  those  which  we  observe  in  light,  that  when  you 
shall  have  considered  them,  I  am  sure  that  you  will 
declare,  as  I  do,  that  there  is  no  need  of  conceiving 
in  the  stars,  nor  in  the  heavens,  any  other  quality  than 
this  energy,  which  is  called  by  the  name  of  light.* 

The  principal  properties  of  light  are  :  i,  That  it 
spreads  itself  around  on  all  sides  about  bodies  which 
we  call  luminous  ;  2,  and  to  every  degree  of  dis- 
tance ;  3,  and  instantaneously  ;  4,  and  usually  in 
straight  lines,  which  must  be  understood  as  rays  of 
light ;  5>  ar>d  that  many  of  these  rays,  coming  from 
different  points,  may  gather  at  one  point ;  6,  or,  com- 
ing from  the  same  point,  may  proceed  to  different 
points  ;  7,  or,  coming  from  different  points,  and  going 
toward  different  points,  may  pass  by  the  same  point 
without  interference  with  one  another  ;  8,  and  that 
they  may  also  sometimes  hinder  one  another,  to  wit, 
when  their  force  is  very  unequal,  and  that  of  some  is 
very  much  greater  than  that  of  others  ;  9,  and  finally, 
that  they  can  be  turned  aside  by  reflection  ;  10,  or 
by  refraction;  u,  and  that  their  force  may  be  in- 
creased ;  12,  or  diminished  by  the  different  disposi- 
tions or  qualities  of  the  matter  which  receives  them. 

*  Cette  action,  qui  s'appelle  du  nom  de  lumi£re. 


266  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

These  are  the  principal  properties  observed  in  light, 
all  of  which  agree  with  this  energy,  as  you  shall 
see  : 

1.  That  this  energy  must  spread  itself  in  all  direc- 
tions around  luminous  bodies,  the  reason  whereof  is 
evident,  because  it  is  from  the  circular  movement  of 
their  particles  that  it  proceeds. 

2.  It  is  also  evident  that  it  can  extend  itself  to  every 
degree  of  distance  ;  because,  for  example,  supposing 
that  the  particles  of  the  heavens  which  are  contained 
in  the  space  between  [the  sun  and  some  point  in  the 
circumference  of  those  heavens]  are  already  of  them- 
selves disposed  to  move  toward  [the  circumference],  as 
we  have  said  they  are,  it  cannot  be  doubted  that  the 
force   with  which  the   sun   impels  those  which  are 
[about  it]  must  make  them  reach  as  far  as  the  [circum- 
ference], even  although  it  were  a  distance  greater  than 
that  between  the  most  distant  stars  of  the  firmament 
and  ourselves. 

3.  And  considering  that  the  particles  of  the  second 
element  which  are  between  [the  sun  and  some  point 
on  the  circumference]  touch  upon  and  press  each 
other  as  much  as  possible,  it  cannot  be  doubted  also 
that  the  energy  by  which  the  first  are  impelled  must 
pass  in  an  instant  as  far  as  the  last,  just  as  that  by 
which  one  end  of  a  stick  is  pushed  passes  in  the  same 
instant  to  the  other  end 

4.  In  regard  to  the  lines  along  which  this  energy  is 
communicated,  and  which  are  properly  rays  of  light, 
it  must  be  observed  that  they  differ  from  the  particles 
of  the  second  element,  by  the  medium  of  which  this 
same  energy  is  propagated,  and  that  they  are  nothing 
material  in  the  medium  through  which  they  pass,  but 
that  they  signify  simply  in  what  way  and  in  what  di- 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  267 

rection  the  luminous  body  acts  upon  that  which  it 
illuminates  ;  and  thus  they  are  not  to  be  conceived 
otherwise  than  as  exactly  straight,  although  the  par- 
ticles of  the  second  element,  which  serves  to  transmit 
this  energy  or  light,  might  almost  never  be  so  directly 
situated  one  after  another  as  to  compose  perfectly 
straight  lines 

9,  10.  As  for  reflection  and  refraction,  I  have  al- 
ready sufficiently  explained  them  elsewhere.*  Never- 
theless, because  for  the  illustration  of  the  movement, 
I  then  made  use  of  a  ball  instead  of  speaking  of  rays 
of  light,  in  order  by  this  means  to  make  my  discourse 
more  intelligible  ;  it  remains  to  me  here  to  bring  to 
your  attention  the  fact  that  the  energy,  or  inclination 
to  move,  which  is  transmitted  from  one  place  to  an- 
other by  means  of  many  bodies  which  are  in  contact 
and  which  exist  without  break  throughout  all  the 
space  between  both,  follows  precisely  the  same  path 
wherein  this  same  energy  might  cause  the  first  of  these 
bodies  to  move,  if  the  others  were  not  in  its  way,  with 
no  other  difference  except  that  time  would  be  required 
for  this  body  to  move,  whereas  the  energy  which  is  in 
it  may,  through  the  intervention  of  those  which  are  in 
contact  with  it,  extend  itself  to  all  distances  in  an  in- 
stant ;  whence  it  follows  that,  in  like  manner  as  a  ball 
is  reflected  when  it  hits  against  the  wall  of  a  tennis- 
court,  and  that  it  suffers  refraction  when  it  enters 
obliquely  into  water,  or  passes  out  of  it,  so  also  when 
the  rays  of  light  meet  a  body  which  does  not  allow 
them  to  pass  through,  they  must  be  reflected  ;  and 
when  they  enter  obliquely  into  any  place  through 
which  they  can  extend  themselves  more  or  less  easily 
than  through  that  whence  they  proceed,  they  must 

*  La  Dioptrique,  Discours  second.     (Euvres,  t.  v,  p.  17. 


268  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

also,  at  the  point  of  this  change,  be  deflected  and 
suffer  refraction. 

u,  12.  Finally,  the  energy  of  light  is  not  only  more 
or  less  great  in  each  place,  according  to  the  quantity 
of  rays  which  meet  there,  but  it  can  also  be  increased 
and  diminished  by  the  different  dispositions  of  the 
bodies  which  happen  to  be  in  the  places  through 
which  it  passes,  just  as  the  velocity  of  a  ball  or  stone 
thrown  into  the  air  may  be  increased  by  the  winds 
which  blow  in  the  same  direction  in  which  it  is  moving, 
and  diminished  by  those  which  oppose  it. 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  269 


CHAPTER  XV. 

That  the  heavens  of  this  new  world  must  appear  to  its 
inhabitants  the  same  as  ours. 

HAVING  thus  explained  the  nature  and  properties 
of  that  energy  which  I  understand  light  to  be,  it  is 
necessary  also  that  I  explain  how  by  means  of  it  the 
inhabitants  of  the  planet,  which  I  have  assumed  for 
the  earth,  may  see  the  face  of  their  heavens  as  one 
quite  like  ours.  In  the  first  place,  there  is  no  doubt 
that  they  must  see  the  [central  body]  all  full  of  light 
and  like  our  sun,  seeing  that  that  body  sends  its  rays 
from  every  point  of  its  surface  toward  their  eyes  ;  and 
because  it  is  much  nearer  them  than  the  stars,  it  must 
appear  much  larger 

It  must  be  understood  that  the  great  heavens,  that 
is  to  say,  those  which  have  a  fixed  star  or  sun  for 
their  center,  although,  perhaps,  quite  unequal  in  ex- 
tent, must  always  be  of  exactly  equal  energy  ;  for,  if 
this  equilibrium  did  not  exist,  they  would  inevitably 
perish  in  a  short  time,  or  at  least  they  would  change 

until  they  acquired  this  equilibrium But  it  is 

necessary  that  you  further  observe,  in  regard  to  their 
situation,  that  the  stars  can  never  appear  in  the 

places  where  they  really  are The  reason  of 

this  is  that  the  [different]  heavens  being  unequal  in 
extent,  the  surfaces  which  separate  them  never  hap- 
pen to  be  so  disposed  that  the  rays,  which  cross  them 
in  going  from  these  stars  toward  the  earth,  meet  them 


270  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  III 

at  right  angles ;  and,  meeting  them  obliquely,  it  is 
certain,  according  to  what  has  been  shown  in  the  "Diop- 
trics,"* that  they  must  be  bent  and  suffer  considerable 
refraction,  inasmuch  as  they  pass  much  more  easily 
through  one  of  the  sides  of  this  surface  than  through 
the  other 

Consider,  also,  as  regards  the  number  of  these  stars, 
that  frequently  the  same  one  might  appear  in  several 
places,  because  of  the  different  surfaces  which  deflect 
its  rays  toward  the  earth  .  .  .  just  as  objects  are 
multiplied  when  seen  through  glasses  or  other  trans- 
parent bodies  cut  with  many  faces. 

Further  consider,  in  regard  to  their  size,  that 
although  they  must  appear  much  smaller  than  they 
are,  because  of  their  extreme  distance,  and  also  that, 
for  the  same  reason,  the  larger  part  of  them  cannot 
appear  at  all,  and  others  can  appear  only  as  the  rays 
of  many  uniting  together  make  the  parts  of  the  firma- 
ment through  which  they  pass  a  little  whiter,  and  like 
certain  stars  which  astronomers  call  nebulous,  or  that 
great  belt  of  our  heavens  which  the  poets  feign  was 
washed  in  the  milk  of  Juno  ;  nevertheless,  as  for  those 
which  are  less  distant,  it  is  enough  to  assume  them  to 
be  about  equal  to  our  sun,  in  order  to  conclude  that 
they  would  appear  as  large  as  the  largest  in  our  world. 

Besides  that,  it  is  very  probable  that  the 

[limiting]  surfaces  of  the  heavens  being  of  an  ex- 
tremely fluid  matter,  which  is  incessantly  in  motion, 
would  constantly  shake  and  undulate  somewhat  ;  and, 
consequently,  that  the  stars  which  are  seen  through  it 
would  appear  scintillating  and  trembling,  as  it  were, 
as  do  our  own,  and  also,  because  of  their  trembling,  a 
little  larger,  as  does  the  image  of  the  moon  upon  a 
*  Discours  second,  (Euzres,  t.  v,  p.  21. 


PHYSICS]      THE  WORLD  ;    OR,  ESSAY  ON  LIGHT.  271 

lake,  the  surface  of  which  is  not  greatly  disturbed  nor 
tossed,  but  only  slightly  ruffled  by  a  breeze. 

And  finally,  it  may  come  about  that  in  course  of 
time  these  limiting  surfaces  change  a  little,  or  even 
again  that  some  [of  them]  bend  as  much  in  a  short 
time — on  occasion,  it  may  be,  of  a  comet  approaching 
them — and,  by  this  means,  many  stars  appear,  after  a 
long  time,  to  be  a  little  changed  in  position  without 
being  so  in  magnitude,  or  slightly  changed  in  magni- 
tude without  being  so  in  position  ;  or  even  that  some 
begin  suddenly  to  appear  or  to  disappear,  as  is  seen  to 
happen  in  the  real  world. 

As  for  the  planets  and  comets  which  are  in  the 
same  heavens  as  the  sun,  remembering  that  the  par- 
ticles of  the  third  element  of  which  they  are  composed 
are  so  large,  or  so  many  of  them  compacted  together, 
that  they  can  resist  the  action  of  light,  it  is  easy  to 
understand  that  they  must  shine  by  means  of  the  rays 
that  the  sun  sends  toward  them,  and  which  they  re- 
flect thence  toward  the  earth  ;  just  as  opaque  or  dark 
objects  in  a  chamber  can  be  seen  by  means  of  the  rays 
which  a  torch  lighted  there  sends  toward  them,  and 
which  return  thence  toward  the  eyes  of  the  observers. 
And  besides,  the  rays  of  the  sun  have  a  very  consid- 
erable advantage  over  those  of  a  torch,  which  con- 
sists in  this,  that  their  energy  is  preserved  or  even  in- 
creased more  and  more  in  proportion  to  their  distance 
from  the  sun,  until  they  reach  the  exterior  surface  of 
its  heavens,  because  all  the  matter  of  those  heavens 
tends  thither  ;  whereas  the  rays  of  a  torch  grow  feebler 
as  they  recede,  in  proportion  to  the  extent  of  the 
spherical  surfaces  which  they  illuminate,  and  also,  in 
some  small  degree,  on  account  of  the  resistance  of  the 
air  through  which  they  pass.  Whence  it  arises  that 


2?2  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES. 

objects  which  are  in  the  vicinity  of  the  torch  are  no- 
ticeably brighter  than  those  which  are  at  a  distance 
from  it  ;  and  that  the  inferior  planets  are  not  in  the 
same  proportion  more  illuminated  by  the  sun  than  the 
superior,  nor  even  than  the  comets,  which  are,  beyond 
comparison,  more  distant. 

Now,  experience  shows  that  the  same  thing  happens, 
also,  in  the  real  world;  and,  nevertheless,  I  do  not  be- 
lieve it  possible  to  give  a  reason  for  it,  if  it  be  as- 
sumed that  light  be  anything  else  in  objects  than  an 
energy  \une  action]  or  disposition,  such  as  I  have  ex- 
plained it  to  be.  I  say  an  energy  or  disposition  ;  for  if 
you  have  paid  good  attention  to  what  I  have  recently 
proved,  that,  if  the  space  where  the  sun  is  were  quite 
empty,  the  particles  of  its  heavens  would  not  cease  to 
tend  toward  the  eyes  of  observers  in  the  same  way  as 
when  they  are  impelled  by  its  matter,  and  even  with 
almost  as  much  force,  you  may  easily  conclude  that 
there  would  be  hardly  any  need  of  its  having  in  it  any 
activity,  or  even,  as  it  were,  any  being,  other  than  pure 
space,  in  order  to  appear  such  as  we  see  it.  As  to  the 
rest,  the  movement  of  these  planets  about  their  cen- 
ter is  the  cause  of  their  scintillating,  yet  much  less 
strongly  and  in  a  different  way  from  the  fixed  stars  ; 
and,  because  the  moon  is  devoid  of  this  movement, 
it  does  not  scintillate  at  all.*  .... 

*The  remainder  of  the  treatise,  about  six  pages,  requiring  dia- 
grams, is  omitted. 


SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  TRACT  ON 
MAN,  ETC. 


MAN.* 

THESE  men  shall  be  composed,  as  we  are,  of  a  soul 
and  a  body  ;  and  I  must  describe  to  you  first  the  body 
by  itself,  afterward  the  soul,  also  by  itself,  and  finally 
I  must  show  you  how  both  these  natures  are  to  be 
joined  and  united  to  compose  men  which  resemble 
us. 

I  assume  that  the  body  is  nothing  else  than  a  statue 
or  machine  of  clay  which  God  forms  expressly  to 
make  it  as  nearly  like  as  possible  to  ourselves,  so  that 
not  only  does  he  give  it  externally  the  color  and  the 
form  of  all  our  members,  but  also  he  puts  within  it  all 
the  parts  necessary  to  make  it  walk,  eat,  breathe,'  and 
in  fine  imitate  all  those  of  our  functions  which  may 
be  supposed  to  proceed  from  matter  and  to  depend 
merely  on  the  arrangement  of  organs. 

We  see  clocks,  artificial  fountains,  mills,  and  other 
similar  machines,  which,  although  made  by  men,  are 
not  without  the  power  of  moving  of  themselves  in 
many  different  ways  ;  and  it  seems  to  me  that  I  should 
not  be  able  to  imagine  so  many  kinds  of  movements 
in  this  one,  which  I  am  supposing  to  be  made  by  the 
hand  of  God,  nor  attribute  to  it  so  much  of  artifice 
that  you  would  not  have  reason  to  think  there  might 
still  be  more. 

Now,  I  will  not  stop  to  describe  to  you  the  bones, 
nerves,  muscles,  veins,  arteries,  stomach,  liver,  spleen, 
heart,  brain,  nor  all  the  other  different  parts  of  which 
*  CEuvres,  t.  iv,  p.  335,  seq. 


276  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  IV 

it  is  to  be  composed  ;  for  I  assume  them  to  be  in 
every  respect  similar  to  the  parts  of  our  own  body  which 
have  the  same  names,  and  which  you  can  have  shown 
to  you  by  any  learned  anatomist,  at  least  those  which 
are  large  enough  to  be  seen,  if  you  do  not  already 
know  them  well  enough  yourselves  ;  and  as  for  those 
which,  because  of  their  minuteness,  are  invisible,  I 
shall  be  able  to  make  you  more  easily  and  clearly 
understand  them,  by  speaking  of  the  movements  which 
depend  upon  them  ;  so  that  it  is  only  necessary  here 
for  me  to  explain  in  order  these  movements,  and  to 
tell  you  by  the  same  means  what  functions  of  our  own 
they  represent 

But  what  is  here  to  be  chiefly  noted  is  that  all  the 
most  active,  vigorous,  and  finest  particles  of  the  blood 
tend  to  run  into  the  cavities  of  the  brain,  inasmuch 
as  the  arteries  which  carry  them  are  those  which  come 
in  the  straightest  line  of  all  from  the  heart,  and,  as 
you  know,  all  bodies  in  motion  tend,  as  far  as  possible, 
to  continue  their  motion  in  a  straight  line 

In  regard  to  the  particles  of  blood  which  penetrate 
to  the  brain,  they  serve  not  only  to  nourish  and  sup- 
port its  substance,  but  chiefly,  also,  to  produce  there  a 
certain  very  subtle  breath,  or  rather  flame,  very  active 
and  very  pure,  which  is  called  the  animal  spirits. 
For  it  must  be  understood  that  the  arteries  which 
carry  them  from  the  heart,  after  being  divided  into  an 
infinitude  of  small  branches,  and  having  formed  those 
small  tissues  which  are  spread  like  tapestries  at  the 
base  of  the  cavities  of  the  brain,  collect  about  a 
certain  small  gland  situated  nearly  at  the  middle  of 
the  substance  of  the  brain,  just  at  the  entrance  of  its 
cavities,  and  have  at  this  place  a  great  number  of 
small  openings  through  which  the  finest  particles  of 


PHYSIOLOGY]         THE  TRACT  ON  MAN.  277 

the  blood  they  contain  can  run  into  this  gland,  but 
which  are  too  narrow  to  admit  the  larger. 

It  must  also  be  understood  that  these  arteries  do 
not  end  there,  but  that — many  of  them  there  joined 
together  in  one — they  mount  directly  upward  and 
empty  into  that  great  artery  which  is  like  a  Euripus 
[aqueduct]  by  which  the  whole  exterior  surface  of  the 
brain  is  irrigated.  And,  moreover,  it  is  to  be  noted 
that  the  larger  particles  of  the  blood  may  lose  much 
of  their  onward  motion  in  the  winding  passages  of  the 
small  tissues  through  which  they  pass,  inasmuch  as 
they  have  the  power  to  push  on  the  smaller  ones 
among  them,  and  so  transfer  it  to  them  ;  but  that 
these  smaller  ones  cannot  in  the  same  way  lose  their 
own,  inasmuch  as  it  is  even  increased  by  that  which 
the  larger  transfer  to  them,  and  there  are  no  other 
bodies  around  them  to  which  they  can  so  easily  trans- 
fer it. 

Whence  it  is  easy  to  conceive  that,  when  the  larger 
ones  mount  straight  toward  the  exterior  surface  of 
the  brain,  where  they  serve  for  the  nourishment  of  its 
substance,  they  cause  the  smaller  and  more  rapidly 
moving  particles  all  to  turn  aside  and  enter  into  this 
gland,  which  is  to  be  conceived  of  as  a  very  copious 
fountain,  whence  they  flow  on  all  sides  at  once  into 
the  cavities  of  the  brain  ;  and  thus,  with  no  other  prep- 
aration or  change,  except  that  they  are  separated 
from  the  larger,  and  that  they  still  retain  the  extreme 
swiftness  which  the  heat  of  the  heart  has  imparted  to 
them,  they  cease  to  have  the  form  of  blood  and  are 
called  the  animal  spirits. 

Now,  in  proportion  as  these  spirits  enter  thus  the 
cavities  of  the  brain,  they  pass  thence  into  the  pores 
of  its  substance,  and  from  these  pores  into  the  nerves  ; 


278  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  IV 

where,  according  as  they  enter,  or  even  only  as  they 
tend  to  enter,  more  or  less  into  some  rather  than  into 
others,  they  have  the  power  to  change  the  form  of  the 
muscles  into  which  their  nerves  are  inserted  and  by 
this  means  to  cause  all  the  limbs  to  move  ;  just  as 
you  may  have  seen  in  grottoes  and  fountains  in  the 
royal  gardens  that  the  force  alone  with  which  the 
water  moves,  in  passing  from  the  spring,  is  enough  to 
move  various  machines,  and  even  to  make  them  play 
on  instruments,  or  utter  words,  according  to  the  dif- 
ferent arrangement  of  the  pipes  which  conduct  it. 

And,  indeed,  the  nerves  of  the  machine  that  I  am 
describing  to  you  may  very  well  be  compared  to  the 
pipes  of  the  machinery  of  these  fountains,  its  muscles 
and  its  tendons  to  various  other  engines  and  devices 
which  serve  to  move  them,  its  animal  spirits  to  the 
water  which  sets  them  in  motion,  of  which  the  heart  is 
the  spring,  and  the  cavities  of  the  brain  the  outlets. 
Moreover,  respiration  and  other  such  functions  as  are 
natural  and  usual  to  it,  and  which  depend  on  the 
course  of  the  spirits,  are  like  the  movements  of  a  clock 
or  a  mill,  which  the  regular  flow  of  the  water  can  keep 
up.  External  objects  which,  by  their  presence  alone, 
act  upon  the  organs  of  its  senses,  and  which  by  this 
means  determine  it  to  move  in  many  different  ways, 
according  as  the  particles  of  its  brain  are  arranged, 
are  like  visitors  who,  entering  some  of  the  grottoes  of 
these  fountains,  bring  about  of  themselves,  without  in- 
tending it,  the  movements  which  occur  in  their  pres- 
ence ;  for  they  cannot  enter  without  stepping  on 
certain  tiles  of  the  pavement  so  arranged  that,  for  ex- 
ample, if  they  approach  a  Diana  taking  a  bath,  they 
make  her  hide  in  the  reeds  ;  and,  if  they  pass  on  in 
pursuit  of  her,  they  cause  a  Neptune  to  appear  before 


PHYSIOLOGY]         THE  TRACT  ON  MAN.  279 

them,  who  menaces  them  with  his  trident  ;  or  if  they 
turn  in  some  other  direction  they  will  make  a  marine 
monster  come  out,  who  will  squirt  water  into  their 
faces,  or  something  similar  will  happen,  according  to 
the  fancy  of  the  engineers  who  construct  them.  And 
finally,  when  the  reasonable  soul  shall  be  in  this  ma- 
chine, it  will  have  its  principal  seat  in  the  brain, 
and  it  will  be  there  like  the  fountain-maker,  who 
must  be  at  the  openings  where  all  the  pipes  of 
these  machines  discharge  themselves,  if  he  wishes  to 
start,  to  stop,  or  to  change  in  any  way  their  move- 
ments.* .... 

I  desire  you  to  consider  next  that  all  the  functions 
which  I  have  attributed  to  this  machine,  such  as  the 
digestion  of  food,  the  beating  of  the  heart  and  arteries, 
the  nourishment  and  growth  of  the  members,  respira- 
tion, waking,  and  sleeping ;  the  impressions  of  light, 
sounds,  odors,  tastes,  heat,  and  other  such  qualities 
on  the  organs  of  the  external  senses  ;  the  impression 
of  their  ideas  on  the  common  sensef  and  the  imagina- 
tion ;  the  retention  or  imprinting  of  these  ideas  upon 
the  memory  ;  the  interior  motions  of  the  appetites 
and  passions  ;  and,  finally,  the  external  movements  of 
all  the  members,  which  follow  so  suitably  as  well  the 
actions  of  objects  which  present  themselves  to  sense, 
as  the  passions  and  impressions  which  are  found  in 
the  memory,  that  they  imitate  in  the  most  perfect 
manner  possible  those  of  a  real  man  ;  I  desire,  I  say, 
that  you  consider  that  all  these  functions  follow  natu- 
rally in  this  machine  simply  from  the  arrangement 
of  its  parts,  no  more  nor  less  than  do  the  movements 

*  What  intervenes  is  illustrated  by  diagrams  and  is  therefore 
omitted  here. 

f  Sensus  communis. 


200  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  IV 

of  a  clock,*  or  other  automata,  from  that  of  its 
weights  and  its  wheels;  so  that  it  is  not  at  all  necessary 
for  their  explanation  to  conceive  in  it  any  other  soul, 
vegetative  or  sensitive,  nor  any  other  principle  of  mo- 
tion and  life,  than  its  blood  and  its  spirits,  set  in 
motion  by  the  heat  of  the  fire  which  burns  continually 
in  its  heart,  and  which  is  of  a  nature  no  different  from 
all  fires  in  inanimate  bodies. 

*  Apparently  the  first  suggestion  of  the  comparison  afterward 
employed  by  Bontekoe(?)  and  by  Leibnitz.  See  above,  pp.  26 
and  31. 


AUTOMATISM  OF  BRUTES. 
Letter  to  the  Marquis  of  Newcastle* 

....  As  for  the  understanding  or  thought  attrib- 
uted by  Montaigne  and  others  to  brutes,  I  cannot  hold 
their  opinion  ;  not,  however,  because  I  am  doubtful  of 
the  truth  of  what  is  commonly  said,  that  men  have  abso- 
lute dominion  over  all  the  other  animals  ;  for  while  I 
allow  that  there  are  some  which  are  stronger  than  we 
are,  and  I  believe  there  may  be  some,  also,  which  have 
natural  cunning  capable  of  deceiving  the  most  saga- 
cious men  ;  yet  I  consider  that  they  imitate  or  sur- 
pass us  only  in  those  of  our  actions  which  are  not 
directed  by  thought ;  for  it  often  happens  that  we 
walk  and  that  we  eat  without  thinking  at  all  upon 
what  we  are  doing ;  and  it  is  so  much  without  the 
-use  of  our  reason  that  we  repel  things  which  harm 
us,  and  ward  off  blows  struck  at  us,  that,  although  we 
might  fully  determine  not  to  put  our  hands  before  our 
heads  when  falling,  we  could  not  help  doing  so.  I 
believe,  also,  that  we  should  eat  as  the  brutes  do,  with- 
out having  learned  how,  if  we  had  no  power  of  thought 
at  all  ;  and  it  is  said  that  those  who  walk  in  their 
sleep  sometimes  swim  across  rivers,  where,  had  they 
been  awake,  they  would  have  been  drowned. 

As  for  the  movements  of  our  passions,  although  in 
ourselves  they  are  accompanied  with  thought,  because 
we  possess  that  faculty,  it  is,  nevertheless,  very  evident 
that  they  do  not  depend  upon  it,  because  they  often 

*  CEuvres,  t.  ix,  p.  423. 

281 


282  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  IV 

arise  in  spite  of  us,  and,  consequently,  they  may  exist 
in  brutes,  and  even  be  more  violent  than  they  are  in 
men,  without  warranting  the  conclusion  that  brutes 
can  think  ;  in  fine  there  is  no  one  of  our  external  ac- 
tions which  can  assure  those  who  examine  them  that 
our  body  is  anything  more  than  a  machine  which 
moves  of  itself,  but  which  also  has  in  it  a  mind  which 
thinks — excepting  words,  or  other  signs  made  in  re- 
gard to  whatever  subjects  present  themselves,  without 
reference  to  any  passion.  I  say  words  or  other  signs, 
because  mutes  make  use  of  signs  in  the  same  way  as 
we  do  of  the  voice,  and  these  signs  are  pertinent  ;  but 
I  exclude  the  talking  of  parrots,  but  not  that  of  the 
insane,  which  may  be  apropos  to  the  case  in  hand, 
although  it  is  irrational ;  and  I  add  that  these  words  or 
signs  are  not  to  relate  to  any  passion,  in  order  to  ex- 
clude, not  only  cries  of  joy  or  pain  and  the  like,  but, 
also,  all  that  can  be  taught  to  any  animal  by  art ;  for  if 
a  magpie  be  taught  to  say  "  good-  morning  "  to  its  mis- 
tress when  it  sees  her  coming,  it  may  be  that  the 
utterance  of  these  words  is  associated  with  the  excite- 
ment of  some  one  of  its  passions  ;  for  instance,  there 
will  be  a  stir  of  expectation  of  something  to  eat,  if  it 
has  been  the  custom  of  the  mistress  to  give  it  some 
dainty  bit  when  it  spoke  those  words  ;  and  in  like 
manner  all  those  things  which  dogs,  horses,  and  mon- 
keys are  made  to  do  are  merely  motions  of  their  fear, 
their  hope,  or  their  joy,  so  that  they  might  do  them 
without  any  thought  at  all. 

Now,  it  seems  to  me  very  remarkable  that  language, 
as  thus  defined,  belongs  to  man  alone  ;  for  although 
Montaigne  and  Charron  have  said  that  there  is  more 
difference  between  one  man  and  another  than  be- 
tween a  man  and  a  brute,  nevertheless  there  has 


PHYSIOLOGY]      AUTOMATISM  OP  BRUTES.  283 

never  yet  been  found  a  brute  so  perfect  that  it  has 
made  use  of  a  sign  to  inform  other  animals  of  some- 
thing which  had  no  relation  to  their  passions  ;  while 
there  is  no  man  so  imperfect  as  not  to  use  such  signs  ; 
so  that  the  deaf  and  dumb  invent  particular  signs  by 
which  they  express  their  thoughts,  which  seems  to  me 
a  very  strong  argument  to  prove  that  the  reason  why 
brutes  do  not  talk  as  we  do  is  that  they  have  no  faculty 
of  thought,  and  not  at  all  that  the  organs  for  it  are 
wanting.  And  it  cannot  be  said  that  they  talk  among 
themselves,  but  we  do  not  understand  them ;  for,  as 
dogs  and  other  animals  express  to  us  their  passions, 
they  would  express  to  us  as  well  their  thoughts,  if  they 
had  them.  I  know,  indeed,  that  brutes  do  many 
things  better  than  we  do,  but  I  am  not  surprised  at  it; 
for  that,  also,  goes  to  prove  that  they  act  by  force  of 
nature  and  by  springs,  like  a  clock,  which  tells  better 
what  the  hour  is  than  our  judgment  can  inform  us. 
Andy  doubtless,  when  swallows  come  in  the  spring, 
they  act  in  that  like  clocks.  All  that  honey-bees  do 
is  of  the  same  nature  ;  and  the  order  that  cranes  keep 
in  flying,  or  monkeys  drawn  up  for  battle,  if  it  be  true 
that  they  do  observe  any  order,  and,  finally,  the  in- 
stinct of  burying  their  dead  is  no  more  surprising  than 
that  of  dogs  and  cats,  which  scratch  the  ground  to 
bury  their  excrements,  although  they  almost  never  do 
bury  them,  which  shows  that  they  do  it  by  instinct 
only,  and  not  by  thought.  It  can  only  be  said  that, 
although  the  brutes  do  nothing  which  can  convince 
us  that  they  think,  nevertheless,  because  their  bodily 
organs  are  not  very  different  from  ours,  we  might 
conjecture  that  there  was  some  faculty  of  thought 
joined  to  these  organs,  as  we  experience  in  ourselves, 
although  theirs  be  much  less  perfect,  to  which  I  have 


284  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  IV 

nothing  to  reply,  except  that,  if  they  could  think  as 
we  do,  they  would  have  an  immortal  soul  as  well  as 
we,*  which  is  not  likely,  because  there  is  no  reason 
for  believing  it  of  some  animals  without  believing  it 
of  all,  and  there  are  many  of  them  too  imperfect  to 
make  it  possible  to  believe  it  of  them,  such  as  oysters, 
sponges,  etc. 

Letter  to  Henry  Afore,  1649.! 

....  But  the  greatest  of  all  the  prejudices  we 
have  retained  from  infancy  is  that  of  believing  that 
brutes  think.  The  source  of  our  error  comes  from 
having  observed  that  many  of  the  bodily  members 
of  brutes  are  not  very  different  from  our  own  in 
shape  and  movements,  and  from  the  belief  that 
our  mind  is  the  principle  of  the  motions  which 
occur  in  us  ;  that  it  imparts  motion  to  the  body 
and  is  the  cause  of  our  thoughts.  Assuming  this, 
we  find  no  difficulty  in  believing  that  there  is  in 
brutes  a  mind  similar  to  our  own  ;  but  having 
made  the  discovery,  after  thinking  well  upon  it,  that 
two  different  principles  of  our  movements  are  to  be 
distinguished, — the  one  entirely  mechanical  and  cor- 
poreal, which  depends  solely  on  the  force  of  the  ani- 
mal spirits  and  the  configuration  of  the  bodily  parts, 
and  which  may  be  called  corporeal  soul,  and  the  other 
incorporeal,  that  is  to  say,  mind  or  soul,  which  you 
may  define  a  substance  which  thinks, — I  have  inquired 
with  great  care  whether  the  motions  of  animals  pro- 
ceed from  these  two  principles  or  from  one  alone. 
Now,  having  clearly  perceived  that  they  can  proceed 
from  one  only,  I  have  held  it  demonstrated  tha  we 
are  not  able  in  any  manner  to  prove  that  there  is  in 

*  Cf.  Butler's  Analogy,  Pt.  i,  chap.  i. 

f  (Euvrt.t,  t.  x,  p.  204. 


PHYSIOLOGY]       AUTOMATISM  OF  BRUTES.  285 

the  animals*a  soul  which  thinks.  I  am  not  at  all  dis- 
turbed in  my  opinion  by  those  doublings  and  cunning 
tricks  of  dogs  and  foxes,  nor  by  all  those  things  which 
animals  do,  either  from  fear,  or  to  get  something  to 
eat,  or  just  for  sport.  I  engage  to  explain  all  that 
very  easily,  merely  by  the  conformation  of  the  parts  of 
the  animals.  Nevertheless,  although  I  regard  it  as  a 
thing  demonstrated  that  it  cannot  be  proved  that  the 
brutes  have  thought,  I  do  not  think  that  it  can  be 
demonstrated  that  the  contrary  is  not  true,  because 
the  human  mind  cannot  penetrate  into  the  heart  to 
know  what  goes  on  there ;  but,  on  examining  into 
the  probabilities  of  the  case,  I  see  no  reason  whatever 
to  prove  that  brutes  think,  if  it  be  not  that  having 
eyes,  ears,  a  tongue,  and  other  organs  of  sense  like 
ours,  it  is  likely  that  they  have  sensations  as  we  do, 
and,  as  thought  is  involved  in  the  sensations  which 
we  have,  a  similar  faculty  of  thought  must  be  at- 
tributed to  them.  Now,  since  this  argument  is  within 
the  reach  of  everyone's  capacity,  it  has  held  posses- 
sion of  all  minds  from  infancy.  But  there  are  other 
stronger  and  more  numerous  arguments  for  the  op- 
posite opinion,  which  do  not  so  readily  present  them- 
selves to  everybody's  mind  ;  as,  for  example,  that  it 
is  more  reasonable  to  make  earth-worms,  flies,  cater- 
pillars, and  the  rest  of  the  animals,  move  as  machines 
do,  than  to  endow  them  with  immortal  souls. 

Because  it  is  certain  that  in  the  body  of  animals,  as 
in  ours,  there  are  bones,  nerves,  muscles,  blood,  ani- 
mal spirits,  and  other  organs,  disposed  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  they  can  produce  of  themselves,  without  the 
aid  of  any  thought,  all  the  movements  which  we  ob- 
serve in  the  animals,  as  appears  in  convulsive  move- 
ments, when,  in  spite  of  the  mind  itself,  the  machine 


286  THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  DESCARTES.    [PART  IV 

of  the  body  moves  often  with  greater  violence,  and 
in  more  various  ways  than  it  is  wont  to  do  with  the 
aid  of  the  will ;  moreover,  inasmuch  as  it  is  agreeable 
to  reason  that  art  should  imitate  nature,  and  that  men 
should  be  able  to  construct  divers  automata  in  which 
there  is  movement  without  any  thought,  nature,  on 
her  part,  might  produce  these  automata,  and  far  more 
excellent  ones,  as  the  brutes  are,  than  those  which 
come  from  the  hand  of  man,  seeing  no  reason  any- 
where why  thought  is  to  be  found  wherever  we  per- 
ceive a  conformation  of  bodily  members  like  that  of 
the  animals,  and  that  it  is  more  surprising  that  there 
should  be  a  soul  in  every  human  body  than  that  there 
should  be  none  at  all  in  the  brutes. 

But  the  principal  argument,  to  my  mind,  which 
may  convince  us  that  the  brutes  are  devoid  of  reason, 
is  that,  although  among  those  of  the  same  species, 
some  are  more  perfect  than  others,  as  among  men, 
which  is  particularly  noticeable  in  horses  and  dogs, 
some  of  which  have  more  capacity  than  others  to  re- 
tain what  is  taught  them,  and  although  all  of  them 
make  us  clearly  understand  their  natural  movements 
of  anger,  of  fear,  of  hunger,  and  others  of  like  kind, 
either  by  the  voice  or  by  other  bodily  motions,  it  has 
never  yet  been  observed  that  any  animal  has  arrived 
at  such  a  degree  of  perfection  as  to  make  use  of  a  true 
language  ;  that  is  to  say,  as  to  be  able  to  indicate  to  us 
by  the  voice,  or  by  other  signs,  anything  which  could  be 
referred  to  thought  alone,  rather  than  to  a  movement 
of  mere  nature ;  for  the  word  is  the  sole  sign  and  the 
only  certain  mark  of  the  presence  of  thought  hidden 
and  wrapped  up  in  the  body  ;  now  all  men,  the  most 
stupid  and  the  most  foolish,  those  even  who  are  de- 
prived of  the  organs  of  speech,  make  use  of  signs, 


PHYSIOLOGY]       AUTOMATISM  OF  BRUTES.  287 

whereas  the  brutes  never  do  anything  of  the  kind  ; 
which  may  be  taken  for  the  true  distinction  between 
man  and  brute.  I  omit,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  the 
other  arguments  which  deny  thought  to  the  brutes. 
It  must,  however,  be  observed  that  I  speak  of 
thought,  not  of  life,  nor  of  sensation  ;  for  I  do  not 
deny  the  life  of  any  animal,  making  it  to  consist  solely 
in  the  warmth  of  the  heart.  I  do  not  refuse  to  them 
feeling  even,  in  so  far  as  it  depends  only  on  the 
bodily  organs.  Thus,  my  opinion  is  not  so  cruel  to 
animals  as  it  is  favorable  to  men  ;  I  speak  to  those  who 
are  not  committed  to  the  extravagances  of  Pythag- 
oras, which  attached  to  those  who  ate  or  killed  them 
the  suspicion  even  of  a  crime 

Letter  to  Mersenne,  July  30,  1640.* 

As  for  the  brute  beasts,  we  are  so  accustomed  to 
persuade  ourselves  that  they  feel  just  as  we  do,  that  it 
is  difficult  to  rid  ourselves  of  this  opinion  ;  but,  if  we 
were  also  accustomed  to  see  automata  which  should 
imitate  perfectly  all  those  of  our  actions  which  they 
could  imitate  and  remain  automata,  we  should  have 
no  doubt  whatever  that  all  animals  without  reason  are 
also  automata,  because  we  should  find  just  the  same 
differences  between  ourselves  and  them  as  between 
ourselves  and  automata,  as  I  have  written  on  page  56  \ 
of  the  Method  ;  and  I  have  very  particularly  shown 
in  my  World  J  how  all  the  organs  which  are  required 
to  produce  all  those  actions  which  occur  in  automata 
are  found  in  the  bodies  of  animals. 

*  (Euvres,  t.  viii,  p.  299. 

t  OEuvrcs,  t.  i,  p.  184;  Veitch's  Descartes,  page  54. 

\  In  the  part  not  published. 


SELECTIONS  FROM  THE  PASSIONS  OF 
THE   SOUL. 


THE  PASSIONS   OF  THE  SOUL.* 

PART  I. 

ARTICLE  I. 

Passion,  as  respects  the  subject,  is  always  action  in 
some  other  respect, 

THERE  is  nothing  which  better  shows  how  defect- 
ive the  sciences  are  which  we  have  received  from  the 
ancients  than  what  they  have  written  upon  the  pas- 
sions ;  for,  although  it  is  a  subject  the  knowledge  of 
which  has  always  been  much  sought  after,  and  which 
does  not  appear  to  be  one  of  the  more  difficult 
sciences,  because  everyone,  feeling  the  passions  in 
himself,  stands  in  no  need  whatever  of  borrowing  any 
observation  elsewhere  to  discover  their  nature,  never- 
theless, what  the  ancients  have  taught  on  this  sub- 
ject is  of  so  little  consequence,  and  for  the  most  part 
so  untrustworthy,  that  I  cannot  have  any  hope  of 
reaching  the  truth,  except  by  abandoning  the  paths 
which  they  have  followed.  That  is  the  reason  why  I 
shall  be  obliged  to  write  now  in  the  same  way  as  I 
should  if  I  were  treating  a  topic  which  no  one  before 
me  had  ever  touched  upon  ;  and,  to  begin  with,  I  take 
into  consideration  the  fact  that  an  event  is  generally 
spoken  of  by  philosophers  as  a  passion  as  regards 
the  subject  to  which  it  happens,  and  an  action  in  re- 
spect to  that  which  causes  it ;  so  that,  although  the 
agent  and  the  patient  may  often  be  very  different, 

*  CEuvres,  t.  iv,  p.  37,  seq. 
291 


292  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PARTY 

action  and  passion  are  always  one  and  the  same 
thing,  which  has  these  two  names  because  of  the  two 
different  subjects  to  which  it  can  be  referred. 

ARTICLE  II. 

In  order  to  understand  the  passions  of  the  soul,  it  is 
necessary  to  distinguish  its  functions  from  those  of  the 
body. 

Next  I  take  into  consideration  that  we  know  of  no 
subject  which  acts  more  immediately  upon  our  soul 
than  the  body  to  which  it  is  joined,  and  that  con- 
sequently we  must  think  that  what  in  the  one  is  a  pas- 
sion is  commonly  in  the  other  an  action  ;  so  that 
there  is  no  better  path  to  the  knowledge  of  our  pas- 
sions than  to  examine  into  the  difference  between  the 
soul  and  the  body,  in  order  to  know  to  which  of  them 
is  to  be  attributed  each  of  our  functions. 

ARTICLE  III. 

The  rule  to  be  observed  to  this  end. 

No  great  difficulty  will  be  found  in  this,  if  it  be 
borne  in  mind  that  all  that  which  we  experience  in 
ourselves  which  we  see  can  also  take  place  in  bodies 
entirely  inanimate  is  to  be  attributed  only  to  our 
body  ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  all  that  which  is  in  us 
and  which  we  cannot  conceive  in  any  manner  possible 
to  pertain  to  a  body  is  to  be  attributed  to  our  soul.* 

*"This  utter  disanimation  of  Body  and  its,  not  opposition,  but 
contrariety,  sicuti  omnino  heterogeneum,  to  soul,  as  the  assumed 
Basis  of  Thought  and  Will  ;  this  substitution,  I  say,  of  a  merely 
logical  negatio  alterius  in  otnni  et  singulo,  for  a  philosophic  an- 
tithesis necessary  to  the  manifestation  of  the  identity  of  both — 
2=1 — as  the  only  form  in  which  the  human  understanding  can  re- 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  293 

ARTICLE   IV. 

Thai  heat  and  the  movement  of  the  limbs  proceed 
from  the  body,  thoughts  from  the  mind. 

Thus,  because  we  cannot  conceive  that  the  body 
thinks  in  any  manner  whatever,  we  have  no  reason 
but  to  think  that  all  forms  of  thought  which  are  in  us 
belong  to  the  mind  ;  and  because  we  cannot  doubt 
that  there  are  inanimate  bodies  which  can  move  in  as 
many  or  more  different  ways  than  ours,  and  which 
have  as  much  or  more  heat  (as  experience  teaches  us 
in  the  case  of  flame,  which  alone  has  more  heat  and 
motion  than  any  of  our  members),  we  must  believe 
that  all  the  heat  and  all  the  motions  which  are  in  us, 
in  so  far  as  they  do  not  depend  at  all  on  thought,  be- 
long only  to  the  body. 

ARTICLE   V. 

That  it  is  an  error  to  think  that  the  soul  imparts  motion 
and  heat  to  the  body. 

By  this  means  we  shall  avoid  a  very  great  error, 
into  which  many  have  fallen,  an  error  which  I  con- 
sider to  be  the  principal  hindrance,  up  to  the  present 
time,  to  a  correct  explanation  of  the  passions  and  other 
properties  of  the  soul.  It  consists  in  this,  that,  seeing 
that  all  dead  bodies  are  deprived  of  heat  and,  conse- 
quently, of  motion,  it  is  imagined  that  the  absence  of 
the  soul  causes  these  movements  and  this  heat  to 
cease ;  and  thus  it  has  been  thought,  without  reason, 

present  to  itself  the  1=2,  isthepfccatuw  originalt  of  the  Cartesian 
system. " 

Marginal  jotting  by  Coleridge  in  a  copy  of  Descartes'  Opera 
Philosophica,  once  owned  by  him,  and  now  in  the  library  of  the 
University  of  Vermont. 


294  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.         [PART  V 

that  our  natural  heat  and  all  the  motions  of  our  body 
depend  upon  the  soul ;  instead  of  which  it  should  be 
thought,  on  the  contrary,  that  soul  departs,  when 
death  occurs,  only  because  this  heat  fails  and  the 
organs  which  serve  to  move  the  body  decay. 

ARTICLE  VI. 

The  difference  between  a  living  and  a  dead  body. 

In  order,  then,  that  we  may  avoid  this  error,  let  us 
consider  that  death  never  takes  place  through  the  ab- 
sence of  a  soul,  but  solely  because  some  one  of  the 
principal  parts  of  the  body  has  fallen  into  decay  ;  and 
let  us  conclude  that  the  body  of  a  living  man  differs 
as  much  from  that  of  a  dead  man  as  does  a  watch  or 
other  automaton  (that  is  to  say,  or  other  machine 
which  moves  of  itself),  when  it  is  wound  up,  and  has 
within  itself  the  material  principle  of  the  movements 
for  which  it  is  constructed,  with  all  that  is  necessary 
for  its  action,  from  the  same  watch  or  other  machine, 
when  it  has  been  broken,  and  the  principle  of  its 
movement  ceases  to  act. 

ARTICLE    VII. 

Brief  explanation  of  the  parts  of  the  body  and  of  some 
of  its  functions* 

In  order  to  render  this  more  intelligible,  I  will  ex- 
plain here  in  a  few  words  how  the  entire  mechanism 
of  our  body  is  composed.  There  is  no  one  who  does 
not  already  know  that  there  is  in  us  a  heart,  a  brain, 
a  stomach,  muscles,  nerves,  arteries,  veins,  and  such 
things  ;  it  is  known  also  that  the  food  we  eat  descends 

*  Cf.  Discourse  on  Method,  pt.  v.  (CEtwres,  t.  i,  p.  173);  Veitch, 
p.  46. 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  295 

into  the  stomach  and  the  bowels,  where  their  juices, 
flowing  through  the  liver  and  through  all  the  veins,  mix 
themselves  with  the  blood  they  contain,  and  by  this 
means  increase  its  quantity.  Those  who  have  heard  the 
least  talk  in  medicine  know,  further,  how  the  heart  is 
constructed,  and  how  all  the  blood  of  the  veins  can 
easily  flow  through  the  vena  cava  on  its  right  side, 
and  thence  pass  into  the  lung,  by  the  vessel  which  is 
called  the  arterial  vein,  then  return  from  the  lung  on 
the  left  side  of  the  heart,  by  the  vessel  called  the 
venous  artery,  and  finally  pass  thence  into  the  great 
artery,  the  branches  of  which  are  diffused  through  the 
whole  body.  Also,  all  those  whom  the  authority  of 
the  ancients  has  not  entirely  blinded,  and  who  are 
willing  to  open  their  eyes  to  examine  the  opinion 
of  Hervoeus  *  in  regard  to  the  circulation  of  the  blood, 
have  no  doubt  whatever  that  all  the  veins  and  arteries 
of  the  body  are  merely  channels  through  which  the 
blood  flows  without  cessation  and  very  rapidly,  start- 
ing from  the  right  cavity  of  the  heart  by  the  arterial 
vein,  the  branches  of  which  are  dispersed  throughout 
the  lungs  and  joined  to  that  of  the  venous  artery,  by 
which  it  passes  from  the  lungs  into  the  left  side  of  the 
heart ;  next,  from  thence  it  passes  into  the  great 
artery,  the  branches  of  which,  scattered  throughout 
all  the  rest,  of  the  body,  are  joined  to  the  branches  of 
the  vein,  which  carry  once  more  the  same  blood  into 
the  right  cavity  of  the  heart  ;  so  that  these  two 
cavities  are  like  sluices,  through  each  of  which  all  the 
blood  passes  every  time  it  makes  the  circuit  of  the 
body.  Still  further,  it  is  known  that  all  the  move- 
ments of  the  limbs  depend  upon  the  muscles,  and  that 
these  muscles  are  opposed  to  one  another  in  such  a 
*  Harvey.  See  tribute  to  Harvey,  CEuvres,  t.  ix,  p.  361. 


296  THE    PHILOSOPHY   OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

way  that,  when  one  of  them  contracts,  it  draws  toward 
itself  the  part  of  the  body  to  which  it  is  attached, 
which  at  the  same  time  stretches  out  the  muscle  which 
is  opposed  to  it  ;  then,  if  it  happens,  at  another  time, 
that  this  last  contracts,  it  causes  the  first  to  lengthen, 
and  draws  toward  itself  the  part  to  which  they  are 
attached.  Finally,  it  is  known  that  all  these  move- 
ments of  the  muscles,  as  also  all  the  senses,  depend 
upon  the  nerves,  which  are  like  minute  threads,  or 
small  tubes,  all  of  which  come  from  the  brain,  and 
contain,  like  that,  a  certain  subtle  air  or  breath,  which 
is  called  the  animal  spirits. 

ARTICLE  VIII. 

The  principle  of  all  these  functions. 

But  it  is  not  commonly  known  in  what  manner 
these  animal  spirits  and  these  nerves  contribute  to 
the  movements  of  the  limbs  and  to  the  senses,  nor 
what  is  the  corporeal  principle  which  makes  them 
act ;  it  is  for  this  reason,  although  I  have  already 
touched  upon  this  matter  in  other  writings,*  I  shall  not 
omit  to  say  here  briefly,  that,  as  long  as  we  live,  there 
is  a  continual  heat  in  our  heart,  which  is  a  kind  of 
fire  kept  up  there  by  the  blood  of  the  veins,  and  that 
this  fire  is  the  corporeal  principle  of  the  movements  of 
our  limbs 

ARTICLE  XVI. 

How  all  the  limbs  can  be  moved  by  the  objects  of  the 
senses  and  by  the  spirits  without  the  aid  of  the  soul. 

Finally,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the  machine  of 
our  body  is  so  constructed  that  all  the  changes  which 

*  On  Man,  see  above  p.  280;  also  Discourse,  etc.;  Veitch,  p.  52. 


PSYCHOLOGY]        PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  297 

occur  in  the  motion  of  the  spirits  may  cause  them  to 
open  certain  pores  of  the  brain  rather  than  others, 
and,  reciprocally,  that  when  any  one  of  these  pores  is 
opened  in  the  least  degree  more  or  less  than  is  usual 
by  the  action  of  the  nerves  which  serve  the  senses, 
this  changes  somewhat  the  motion  of  the  spirits, 
and  causes  them  to  be  conducted  into  the  mus- 
cles which  serve  to  move  the  body  in  the  way 
in  which  it  is  commonly  moved  on  occasion  of  such 
action  ;  so  that  all  the  movements  which  we  make 
without  our  will  contributing  thereto  (as  frequently 
happens  when  we  breathe,  or  walk,  or  eat,  and,  in  fine, 
perform  all  those  actions  which  are  common  to  us  and 
the  brutes)  depend  only  on  the  conformation  of  our 
limbs  and  the  course  which  the  spirits,  excited  by  the 
heat  of  the  heart,  naturally  follow  in  the  brain,  in  the 
nerves,  and  in  the  muscles,  in  the  same  way  that  the 
movement  of  a  watch  is  produced  by  the  force  solely 
of  its  mainspring  and  the  form  of  its  wheels.*  .... 

ARTICLE  XXX. 

That  the  soul  is  united  to  all  parts  of  the  body  con- 
jointly. 

But,  in  order  to  understand  all  these  things  more 
perfectly,  it  is  necessary  to  know  that  the  soul  is  truly 
joined  to  the  entire  body,  and  that  it  cannot  properly 
be  said  to  be  in  any  one  of  its  parts  to  the  exclusion 
of  the  rest,  because  the  body  is  one,  and  in  a  manner 

*  "  Can  the  Bruckers  and  the  German  Manualists  have  read  this 
work  of  Descartes — which  yet  was  his  most  popular  treatise — that 
they  should  (one,  I  guess,  copying  from  the  other)  talk  of  Spi- 
noza's having  given  Leibnitz  the  hint  of  his  pre-established  Har- 
mony ?  What  is  this  XVIth  Article,  if  not  a  clear  and  distinct 
statement  of  this  theory  ?" — Marginal  note  by  Coleridge. 


298  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

indivisible,  on  account  of  the  arrangement  of  its 
organs,  which  are  so  related  to  one  another,  that  when 
any  one  of  them  is  taken  away,  that  makes  the  whole 
body  defective  :  and  because  the  soul  is  of  a  nature 
which  has  no  relation  to  extension,  or  to  dimensions, 
or  other  properties  of  the  matter  of  which  the  body  is 
composed,  but  solely  to  the  whole  collection  of  its 
organs,  as  appears  from  the  fact  that  we  cannot  at  all 
conceive  of  the  half  or  the  third  of  a  soul,  nor  what 
space  it  occupies,  and  that  it  does  not  become  any 
smaller  when  any  part  of  the  body  is  cut  off,  but  that 
it  separates  itself  entirely  from  it  when  the  combina- 
tion of  its  organs  is  broken  up. 

ARTICLE  XXXI. 

That  there  is  a  small  gland  in  the  brain  in  which 
the  soul  exercises  its  functions  more  particularly  than 
in  the  other  parts. 

It  is,  also,  necessary  to  know  that,  although  the  soul 
is  joined  to  the  entire  body,  there  is,  nevertheless,  a 
certain  part  of  the  body  in  which  it  exercises  its  func- 
tions more  particularly  than  in  all  the  rest  ;  and  it  is 
commonly  thought  that  this  part  is  the  brain,  or,  per- 
haps, the  heart  :  the  brain,  because  to  it  the  organs  of 
sense  are  related  ;  and  the  heart,  because  it  is  as  if 
there  the  passions  are  felt.  But,  after  careful  exami- 
nation, it  seems  to  me  quite  evident  that  the  part  of 
the  body  in  which  the  soul  immediately  exercises  its 
functions  is  neither  the  heart,  nor  even  the  brain  as  a 
whole,  but  solely  the  most  interior  part  of  it,  which  is 
a  certain  very  small  gland,  situated  in  the  middle  of  its 
substance,  and  so  suspended  above  the  passage  by 
which  the  spirits  of  its  anterior  cavities  communicate 
with  those  of  the  posterior/that  the  slightest  motions 
in  it  may  greatly  affect  the  course  of  these  spirits, 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  299 

and,  reciprocally,  that  the  slightest  changes  which 
take  place  in  the  course  of  the  spirits  may  greatly 
affect  the  motions  of  this  gland. 

ARTICLE  XXXII. 

How  this  gland  is  known  to  be  the  principal  seat  of 
the  soul. 

The  reason  which  convinces  me  that  the  soul  can- 
not have  in  the  whole  body  any  other  place  than  this 
gland  where  it  exercises  its  functions  immediately,  is 
the  consideration  that  the  other  parts  of  our  brain  are 
all  double,  just  as  also  we  have  two  eyes,  two  hands, 
two  ears,  and,  in  fine,  all  the  organs  of  our  external 
senses  are  double ;  and  inasmuch  as  we  have  but 
one  single  and  simple  thought  of  the  same  thing  at  the 
same  time,  there  must  necessarily  be  some  place  where 
the  two  images  which  by  means  of  the  two  eyes,  or 
the  two  other  impressions  which  come  from  a  single 
object  by  means  of  the  double  organs  of  the  other 
senses,  may  unite  in  one  before  they  reach  the  mind, 
in  order  that  they  may  not  present  to  it  two  objects  in 
place  of  one  ;  and  it  may  easily  be  conceived  that 
these  images  or  other  impressions  unite  in  this 
gland,  through  the  medium  of  the  spirits  which  fill 
the  cavities  of  the  brain  ;  but  there  is  no  other  place 
whatever  in  the  whole  body,  where  they  can  thus  be 
united,  except  as  they  have  first  been  united  in  this 

gland. 

{Letter  to  Mersenne,  July  30,  1640.* 

As  for  the  letter  of  the  physician  De  Sens,  it  con- 
tains no  argument  to  impugn  what  I  have  written  upon 
the  gland  called  conarium,  except  that  he  says  that  it 
can  be  changed  like  all  the  brain,  which  does  not  at 
all  prevent  its  being  the  principal  seat  of  the  soul  ; 

*CEuvres,  t.  viii,  p.   301. 


300  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

for  it  is  certain  that  the  soul  must  be  joined  to  some 
part  of  the  body,  and  there  is  no  point  which  is  not  as 
much  or  more  liable  to  alteration  than  this  gland, 
which,  although  it  is  very  small  and  very  soft, 
nevertheless,  on  account  of  its  situation,  is  so  well 
protected,  that  it  can  be  almost  as  little  subject  to 
any  disease  as  the  crystalline  humor  of  the  eye  ; 
and  it  happens  more  frequently  indeed  that  persons 
become  troubled  in  mind,  without  any  known  cause, 
in  which  case  it  may  be  assigned  to  some  disorder  of 
this  gland,  than  it  happens  that  sight  fails  by  any  de- 
fect of  this  crystalline  humor,  besides  that  all  the 
other  changes  which  happen  to  the  mind,  as  when  one 
falls  asleep  after  drinking,  etc.,  may  be  ascribed  to 
some  changes  occurring  in  this  gland. 

As  for  what  he  says  about  the  mind's  being  able  to 
make  use  of  double  organs,  I  agree  with  him,  and  that 
it  makes  use  also  of  the  spirits,  all  of  which  cannot 
reside  in  this  gland ;  but  I  do  not  at  all  conceive  that 
the  mind  is  so  restricted  to  it  that  it  cannot  extend 
its  activity  beyond  it ;  but  it  is  one  thing  to  make  use 
of,  and  another  thing  to  be  immediately  joined  and 
united  to  it ;  and  our  mind  not  being  double,  but 
one  and  indivisible,  it  seems  to  me  that  the  part  of  the 
body  to  which  it  is  most  immediately  united  must 
also  be  one  and  not  divided  into  two  similar  parts, 
and  I  find  nothing  of  that  kind  in  the  whole  brain 
except  this  gland.* 

*  It  is  needless  to  say  that  modern  physiology  fails  to  confirm 
the  view  of  Descartes  concerning  the  pineal  gland  as  the  seat  of 
the  soul.  "  Its  nervous  nature  is  doubtful,  and  its  function  in  man 
obscure  or  absent,  but  it  is  constant  among  vertebrates,  and  in  sev- 
eral, especially  lizards,  it  is  connected  with  a  more  or  less  rudi- 
mentary eye  in  the  middle  of  the  top  of  the  head."  Foster's 
Medical  Dictionary,  p.  1724.] 


PSYCHOLOGY]        PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  301 

ARTICLE  XXXIII. 

That  the  seat  of  the  passions  is  not  in  the  heart. 

As  for  the  opinion  of  those  who  think  that  the  soul 
experiences  its  passions  in  the  heart,  it  is  of  no  great 
account,  because  it  is  founded  only  on  the  fact  that 
the  passions  cause  some  stir  to  be  felt  there  ;  and  it 
is  easy  to  see  that  this  change  is  felt,  as  if  in  the 
heart,  only  through  the  medium  of  a  small  nerve, 
which  descends  to  it  from  the  brain,  just  as  pain  is 
felt  as  if  in  the  foot  through  the  medium  of  the  nerves 
of  the  foot,  and  the  stars  are  perceived  as  in  the 
heavens  by  the  medium  of  their  light  and  the  optic 
nerves  ;  so  that  it  is  no  more  necessary  that  our  soul 
exercise  its  functions  immediately  in  the  heart  in 
order  to  feel  there  its  passions,  than  it  is  necessary 
that  it  should  be  in  the  heavens  in  order  to  see  the 
stars  there. 

ARTICLE  XXXIV. 

How  the  soul  and  the  body  act  one  upon  the  other. 

Let  us  conceive,  then,  that  the  soul  has  its  principal 
seat  in  this  little  gland  in  the  middle  of  the  brain, 
whence  it  radiates  to  all  the  rest  of  the  body  by 
means  of  the  spirits,  the  nerves,  and  even  of  the  blood, 
which,  participating  in  the  impressions  of  the  mind, 
can  carry  them  by  means  of  the  arteries  into  all  the 
members  ;  and,  bearing  in  mind  what  has  been  said 
above  concerning  the  machine  of  our  body,  to  wit, 
that  the  minute  filaments  of  our  nerves  are  so  dis- 
tributed throughout  all  its  parts  that,  on  occasion  of 
the  different  motions  which  are  excited  there  by 
means  of  sensible  objects,  they  open  in  divers  manners 
the  pores  of  the  brain,  which  causes  the  animal  spirits 
contained  in  these  cavities  to  enter  in  various  ways 


302  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

into  the  muscles,  by  means  of  which  they  can  move 
the  limbs  in  all  the  different  ways  of  which  they  are 
capable,  and,  also,  that  all  the  other  causes,  which  in 
other  ways  can  set  the  spirits  in  motion,  have  the 
effect  to  turn  them  upon  various  muscles  [keeping 
all  this  in  mind],  let  us  add  here  that  the  little  gland 
which  is  the  principal  seat  of  the  soul  is  so  suspended 
between  the  cavities  which  contain  the  spirits,  that  it 
can  be  affected  by  them  in  all  the  different  ways  that 
there  are  sensible  differences  in  objects  ;  but  that  it 
can  also  be  variously  affected  by  the  soul,  which  is  of 
such  a  nature  that  it  receives  as  many  different  im- 
pressions— that  is  to  say,  that  it  has  as  many  different 
perceptions — as  there  occur  different  motions  in  this 
gland  ;  as  also,  reciprocally,  the  machine  of  the  body 
is  so  composed  that  from  the  simple  fact  that  this 
gland  is  variously  affected  by  the  soul,  or  by  what- 
ever other  cause,  it  impels  the  spirits  which  surround 
it  toward  the  pores  of  the  brain,  which  discharge 
them  by  means  of  the  nerves  upon  the  muscles, 
whereby  it  causes  them  to  move  the  limbs 

ARTICLE  XL. 

The  principal  effect  of  the  passions. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  the  principal  effect  of  all  the 
passions  in  man  is  that  they  incite  and  dispose  the 
mind  to  will  the  things  to  which  they  prepare  the 
body,  so  that  the  sentiment  of  fear  incites  it  to  will  to 
fly ;  that  of  courage,  to  will  to  fight ;  and  so  of  the  rest. 

ARTICLE  XLI. 

The  power  of  the  mind  over  the  body. 
But  the   will  is  so  free  in  its  nature  that  it  can 
never    be  constrained  ;    and   of    the  two   kinds    of 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  303 

thoughts  which  I  have  distinguished  in  the  mind — of 
which  one  is  its  actions,  that  is,  its  volitions ;  the 
other  its  passions,  taking  this  word  in  its  most  general 
signification,  comprehending  all  sorts  of  perceptions — 
the  first  of  these  are  absolutely  in  its  power,  and  can 
be  changed  only  indirectly  by  the  body,  while,  on  the 
contrary,  the  last  depend  absolutely  on  the  movements 
which  give  rise  to  them,  and  they  can  be  affected 
only  indirectly  by  the  mind,  except  when  it  is  itself 
the  cause  of  them.  And  the  whole  action  of  the 
mind  consists  in  this,  that  by  the  simple  fact  of  its 
willing  anything  it  causes  the  little  gland,  to  which  it 
is  closely  joined,  to  produce  the  result  appropriate  to 
the  volition. 

ARTICLE  XLII. 

How  the  things  we  wish  to  recall  are  found  in  the 
memory. 

Thus,  when  the  mind  wills  to  recall  anything,  this 
volition  causes  the  gland,  by  inclining  successively  to 
different  sides,  to  impel  the  spirits  toward  different 
parts  of  the  brain,  until  they  come  upon  that  where 
the  traces  are  left  of  the  thing  it  wills  to  remember  ; 
for  these  traces  are  due  to  nothing  else  than  the 
circumstance  that  the  pores  of  the  brain,  through 
which  the  spirits  have  already  taken  their  course,  on 
presentation  of  that  object,  have  thereby  acquired  a 
greater  facility  than  the  rest  to  be  opened  again  in 
the  same  way  by  the  spirits  which  come  to  them  ;  so 
that  these  spirits  coming  upon  these  pores,  enter 
therein  more  readily  than  into  the  others,  by  which 
means  they  excite  a  particular  motion  in  the  gland, 
which  represents  to  the  mind  the  same  object,  and 
causes  it  to  recognize  that  it  is  that  which  it  willed  to 
remember. 


304  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PARTY 

ARTICLE  XLIII. 

How  the  mind  can  imagine,  attend,  and  move  the  body. 

Thus,  when  it  is  desired  to  imagine  something 
which  has  never  been  seen,  the  will  has  the  power  to 
cause  the  gland  to  move  in  the  manner  requisite  to 
impel  the  spirits  toward  the  pores  of  the  brain  by  the 
opening  of  which  that  thing  can  be  represented  ;  so, 
when  one  wills  to  keep  his  attention  fixed  for  some 
time  upon  the  same  object,  this  volition  keeps  the 
gland  inclined  during  that  time  in  the  same  direc- 
tion ;  so,  finally,  when  one  wills  to  walk  or  to  move  his 
body  in  any  way,  this  volition  causes  the  gland  to 
impel  the  spirits  toward  the  muscles  which  serve  that 
purpose. 

ARTICLE  XLIV. 

That  each  volition  is  naturally  connected  with  some 
motion  of  the  gland,  but  that,  by  intention  or  by  habit, 
the  will  may  be  connected  with  others. 

Nevertheless,  it  is  not  always  the  volition  to  excite 
within  us  a  certain  motion,  or  other  effect,  which  is 
the  cause  of  its  being  excited  ;  but  this  varies  accord- 
ing as  nature  or  habit  has  'variously  united  each 
motion  of  the  gland  to  each  thought.  Thus,  for  ex- 
ample, if  one  desires  to  adjust  his  eyes  to  look  at  a 
very  distant  object,  this  volition  causes  the  pupil  of 
the  eye  to  expand,  and  if  he  desires  to  adjust  them  so 
as  to  see  an  object  very  near,  this  volition  makes  it 
contract  ;  but  if  he  simply  thinks  of  expanding  the 
pupil,  he  wills  in  vain — the  pupil  will  not  expand  for 
that,  inasmuch  as  nature  has  not  connected  the  mo- 
tion of  the  gland,  which  serves  to  impel  the  spirits 
toward  the  optic  nerve  in  the  manner  requisite  for 
expanding  or  contracting  the  pupil,  with  the  volition 


PSYCHOLOGY]        PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  305 

to  expand  or  contract,  but  with  that  of  looking  at 
objects  distant  or  near.  And  when,  in  talking,  we 
think  only  of  the  meaning  of  what  we  wish  to  say, 
that  makes  us  move  the  tongue  and  lips  much  more 
rapidly  and  better  than  if  we  thought  to  move  them 
in  all  ways  requisite  for  the  utterance  of  the  same 
words,  inasmuch  as  the  habit  we  have  acquired  in 
learning  to  talk  has  made  us  join  the  action  of  the 
mind — which,  through  the  medium  of  the  gland,  can 
move  the  tongue  and  the  lips — with  the  meaning  of 
the  words  which  follow  these  motions  rather  than 
with  the  motions  themselves 

ARTICLE  XLVII. 

Wherein  consist  the  conflicts  which  are  imagined  to 
exist  between  the  inferior  and  the  superior  parts  of  the 
soul. 

It  is  only  in  the  opposition  between  the  motions  that 
the  body  through  the  spirits,  and  the  soul  through  the 
will,  tend  to  excite  at  the  same  time  in  the  gland, 
that  all  the  conflicts  consist  which  are  commonly  im- 
agined to  arise  between  the  inferior  part  of  the  soul, 
which  is  called  sensitive,  and  the  superior  part,  which 
is  rational,  or  rather  between  the  natural  appetites  and 
the  will ;  for  there  is  but  one  soul  within  us,  and  that 
soul  has  in  it  no  diversity  of  parts  whatever  ;  the 
same  which  is  sensitive  is  rational,  and  all  its  appe- 
tites are  volitions.  The  error  which  is  committed 
in  making  it  play  the  parts  of  different  persons  com- 
monly opposed  to  each  other  arises  only  from  the 
want  of  a  right  distinction  of  its  functions  from  those 
of  the  body,  to  which  is  to  be  attributed  all  that  which 
may  be  observed  within  us  to  be  hostile  to  our  reason, 


306  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.       [PART  V 

so  that  there  is  in  this  no  other  conflict  whatever, 
except  that  the  little  gland  which  is  in  the  middle  of 
the  brain  may  be  pushed  on  the  one  side  by  the  soul 
and  on  the  other  by  the  animal  spirits,  which  are  only 
corporeal,  as  I  have  said  above,  and  it  often  happens 
that  these  two  impulses  are  contrary,  and  the  stronger 
hinders  the  effect  of  the  other.  Now  there  may  be 
distinguished  two  kinds  of  motion  excited  by  the 
spirits  in  the  gland  ;  the  one  represents  to  the  soul 
the  objects  which  move  the  senses,  or  the  impressions 
which  meet  in  the  brain,  and  produce  no  effect  upon 
the  will ;  the  other  kind  is  those  which  produce  some 
effect  upon  it,  namely,  those  which  cause  the  passions 
or  the  movements  of  the  body  which  accompany 
them  ;  and  as  for  the  first,  although  they  often  hinder 
the  actions  of  the  soul,  or  perhaps  may  be  hindered 
by  them,  nevertheless,  because  they  are  not  directly 
opposed,  no  conflict  is  observed 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  307 


PART   II. 
ARTICLE    LI. 

The  primary  causes  of  the  passions. 

IT  is  understood,  from  what  has  been  said  above,  that 
the  last  and  proximate  cause  of  the  passions  of  the 
soul  is  nothing  but  the  motion  imparted  by  the  spirits 
to  the  little  gland  in  the  middle  of  the  brain.  But  this 
is  not  enough  to  enable  us  to  distinguish  them  from 
one  another  ;  it  is  necessary  to  trace  them  to  their 
sources  and  to  inquire  into  their  primary  causes  ;  now, 
although  they  may  sometimes  be  caused  by  the  action 
of  the  mind,  which  determines  to  think  upon  such  or 
such  objects,  and  also  by  the  mere  bodily  tempera- 
ment or  by  the  impressions  which  happen  to  present 
themselves  in  the  brain,  as  occurs  when  one  feels  sad 
or  joyous  without  being  able  to  assign  any  reason  for 
it,  it  should  appear,  nevertheless,  according  to  what 
has  been  said,  that  the  same  passions  may  all  be  ex- 
cited  by  objects  which  move  the  senses,  and  that 
these  objects  are  their  most  ordinary  and  principal 
causes  ;  whence  it  follows  that,  to  discover  them  all, 
it  is  sufficient  to  consider  all  the  effects  of  these 
objects. 

ARTICLE  LII. 

What  service  they  render,  and  how  their  number  may 
be  determined. 

I  observe,  further,  that  the  objects  which  move  the 
senses  do  not  excite  in  us  different  passions  by  reason 
of  all  the  diversities  which  are  in  them,  but  solely  on 


308  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

account  of  the  different  ways  in  which  they  can  injure 
or  profit  us,  or,  in  general,  be  important  to  us  ;  and 
that  the  service  which  all  the  passions  render  consists 
in  this  alone,  that  they  dispose  the  mind  to  choose 
the  things  which  nature  teaches  us  are  useful,  and  to 
persist  in  this  choice,  while  also  the  same  motion  of 
the  spirits  which  commonly  causes  them  disposes  the 
body  to  the  movements  which  serve  to  the  perform- 
ance of  those  things ;  this  is  why,  in  order  to  deter- 
mine the  number  of  the  passions,  it  is  necessary 
merely  to  inquire,  in  due  order,  how  many  different 
ways  important  to  us  there  are  in  which  our  senses 
can  be  moved  by  their  objects  ;  and  I  shall  here  make 
the  enumeration  of  all  the  principal  passions  in  the 
order  in  which  they  may  thus  be  found. 

ARTICLE  LIII. 
Wonder. 

When  on  first  meeting  an  object  we  are  surprised, 
and  judge  it  to  be  novel,  or  very  different  from  what 
we  knew  it  before,  or  from  what  we  supposed  it  should 
be,  this  causes  us  to  wonder  at  it  and  be  astonished  ; 
and  since  this  may  happen  before  we  could  know 
whether  this  object  was  beneficial  to  us  or  not,  it  seems 
to  me  that  wonder  is  the  first  of  all  the  passions  ;  and 
it  has  no  contrary,  because,  if  the  object  which  pre- 
sents itself  has  nothing  in  it  which  surprises  us,  we 
are  not  at  all  moved  by  it,  and  we  regard  it  without 
emotion. 

ARTICLE  LXVIII. 

Why  this  enumeration  of  the  passions  differs  from 
that  commonly  received. 

Such  is  the  order  which  seems  to  me  the  best  in 
enumerating  the  passions,  I  know  very  well  that  in 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  309 

this  my  position  is  different  from  that  of  all  who  have 
hitherto  written  upon  them,  but  it  is  so  not  without 
important  reason.  For  they  derive  their  enumeration 
from  their  distinction  in  the  sensitive  part  of  the  soul 
of  two  appetites,  one  of  which  they  call  eoncupisdble, 
the  other  irascible*  And,  inasmuch  as  I  recognize  in 
the  soul  no  distinction  of  parts,  as  I  have  said  above, 
this  seems  to  me  to  signify  nothing  else  but  that  it  has 
two  faculties  :  one  of  desiring,  the  other  of  being 
angry  ;  and  because  it  has  in  the  same  way  the  facul- 
ties of  admiring,  of  loving,  of  hoping,  of  fearing,  and 
of  entertaining  each  of  the  other  passions,  or  of  per- 
forming  the  actions  to  which  these  passions  incline  it, 
I  do  not  see  why  they  have  chosen  to  refer  all  to  de- 
sire or  to  anger.  Moreover,  their  enumeration  does 
not  include  all  the  principal  passions,  as  I  believe  this 
does.  I  speak  only  of  the  principal  ones,  because 
there  may  still  be  distinguished  many  other  more 
special  ones,  and  their  number  is  indefinite. 

ARTICLE  LXIX. 
That  there  are  only  six  primary  passions. 

But  the  number  of  those  which  are  simple  and 
primary  is  not  very  great.  For,  on  reviewing  all  those 
which  I  have  enumerated,  it  is  readily  observed  that 
there  are  only  six  of  this  sort ;  to  wit,  wonder,  love, 
hate,  desire,  joy,  and  sadness,  and  that  all  the  rest  are 
made  up  of  some  of  these  six,  or  at  least  are  species 
of  them.  This  is  why,  in  order  that  their  number 
may  not  embarrass  my  readers,  I  shall  here  treat 
separately  of  the  six  primaries ;  and  afterward  I 
shall  show  how  all  the  rest  derive  their  origin  from 
these. 

*  Plato,  Republic,  bk.  iv. 


310  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

ARTICLE  LXXIV. 

In  what  respect  the  passions  are  of  service  and  in  what 
they  are  harmful. 

Now  it  is  easy  to  see,  from  what  has  been  said 
above,  that  the  usefulness  of  all  the  passions  consists 
only  in  this,  that  they  strengthen  and  make  enduring 
in  the  mind  the  thoughts  which  it  is  well  for  it  to 
keep,  and  which  but  for  that  might  easily  be  effaced 
from  it.  As,  also,  all  the  evil  they  can  cause  consists 
in  their  strengthening  and  preserving  those  thoughts 
in  the  mind  more  than  there  is  any  need  of,  or  else 
that  they  strengthen  and  preserve  others  which  it  is 
not  well  for  the  mind  to  attend  to. 

ARTICLE  LXXIX. 

Definitions  of  love  and  hatred. 

Love  is  an  emotion  of  the  soul,  caused  by  the  mo- 
tion of  the  spirits,  which  incites  it  to  unite  itself  volun- 
tarily to  those  objects  which  appear  to  it  to  be  agree- 
able. And  hatred  is  an  emotion,  caused  by  the  spirits, 
which  incites  the  mind  to  will  to  be  separated  from 
objects  which  present  themselves  to  it  as  harmful.  I 
say  that  these  emotions  are  caused  by  the  spirits, 
in  order  to  distinguish  love  and  hatred,  which  are 
passions,  and  depend  upon  the  body,  as  well  as  the 
judgments  which  also  incline  the  mind  to  unite  itself 
voluntarily  with  the  things  which  it  regards  as  good, 
and  to  separate  itself  from  those  which  it  regards  as 
evil,  as  the  emotions  which  these  judgments  excite  in 
the  soul. 

ARTICLE  LXXX. 

What  is  meant  by  voluntary  union  and  separation. 
For  the  rest,  by  the  word  voluntarily,  I  do  not  here 
intend  desire,  which  is  a  passion  by  Itself,  and  relates 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  311 

to  the  future,  but  the  consent  wherein  one  considers 
himself  for  the  moment  as  united  with  the  beloved 
object,  conceiving  as  it  were  of  one  whole  of  which 
he  thinks  himself  but  one  part,  and  the  object  beloved 
the  other.  While  on  the  contrary,  in  the  case  of 
hatred,  one  considers  himself  alone  as  a  whole, 
entirely  separated  from  the  object  for  which  he  has 
aversion. 

ARTICLE   LXXXVI. 

Definition  of  desire. 

The  passion  of  desire  is  an  agitation  of  the  soul, 
caused  by  the  spirits,  which  disposes  it  to  wish  for 
the  future  the  objects  which  it  represents  to  itself  to 
be  agreeable.  Thus  one  desires  not  only  the  presence 
of  absent  good,  but  also  the  preservation  of  the 
present  good,  and,  in  addition,  the  absence  of  evil, 
as  well  that  which  is  already  experienced,  as  that 
which  it  is  feared  the  future  may  bring. 

ARTICLE  XCI. 

Definition  of  joy. 

Joy  is  an  agreeable  emotion  of  the  soul  in  which 
the  enjoyment  consists  which  it  has  in  any  good  that 
the  impressions  of  the  brain  represent  to  it  as  its  own. 
I  say  that  it  is  in  this  emotion  that  the  enjoyment  of 
good  consists,  for  in  reality  the  soul  receives  no  other 
fruit  of  all  the  goods  it  possesses  ;  and  so  long  as  it 
has  no  joy  in  them,  it  may  be  said  that  it  has  no  more 
fruition  of  them  than  if  it  did  not  possess  them  at  all. 
I  add,  also,  that  it  is  of  good  which  the  impressions  of 
the  brain  represent  to  it  as  its  own,  in  order  not  to 
confound  this  joy,  which  is  a  passion,  with  the  purely 
intellectual  joy,  which  arises  in  the  mind  by  the  simple 


312  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

activity  of  the  mind,  and  which  may  be  said  to  be  an 
agreeable  emotion  excited  within  itself,  in  which  con- 
sists the  enjoyment  which  it  has  of  the  good  which 
its  understanding  represents  to  it  as  its  own.  It  is 
true  that,  so  long  as  the  mind  is  joined  to  the  body, 
this  intellectual  joy  can  scarcely  fail  to  be  accom- 
panied with  that  joy  which  is  passion  ;  for,"as  soon  as 
our  understanding  perceives  that  we  possess  any  good, 
although  that  good  may  be  as  different  as  imaginable 
from  all  that  pertains  to  the  body,  the  imagination 
does  not  fail  on  the  instant  to  make  an  impression  on 
the  brain,  upon  which  follows  the  motion  of  the  spirits 
which  excites  the  passion  of  joy. 

ARTICLE  XCII. 

Definition  of  sadness, 

Sadness  is  a  disagreeable  languor,  in  which  consists 
the  distress  which  the  mind  experiences  from  the  evil 
or  the  defect  which  the  impressions  of  the  brain 
represent  as  pertaining  to  it.  And  there  is  also  an 
intellectual  sadness,  which  is  not  the  passion,  but 
which  seldom  fails  to  be  accompanied  by  it. 

ARTICLE   XCVI. 

The  motions  of  the  blood  and  the  spirits  which  cause 
these  five  passions. 

The  five  passions  which  I  have  here  begun  to  ex- 
plain are  so  joined  or  opposed  to  one  another,  that  it 
is  easier  to  consider  them  all  together  than  to  treat 
of  each  separately  (as  wonder  has  been  treated)  ; 
and  the  cause  of  them  is  not  as  is  the  case  with 
wonder,  in  the  brain  alone,  but  also  in  the  heart,  the 
spleen,  the  liver,  and  in  all  other  parts  of  the  body,  in 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  313 

so  far  as  they  serve  in  the  production  of  the  blood, 
and  thereby  of  the  spirits  ;  for  although  all  the  veins 
conduct  the  blood  they  contain  toward  the  heart,  it 
happens,  nevertheless,  that  sometimes  the  blood  in 
some  of  them  is  impelled  thither  with  more  force  than 
that  in  others  ;  it  happens,  also,  that  the  openings  by 
which  it  enters  into  the  heart,  or  else  those  by  which 
it  passes  out,  are  more  enlarged  or  more  contracted 
at  one  time  than  at  another 

ARTICLE    CXXXVII. 

Of  the  utility  of  these  five  passions  here  explained,  in 
so  far  as  they  relate  to  the  body. 

Having  given  the  definitions  of  love,  of  hatred,  of 
desire,  of  joy,  of  sadness  (and  treated  of  all  the  cor- 
poreal movements  which  cause  or  accompany  them*) 
we  have  only  to  consider  here  their  utility.  In  regard 
to  which  it  is  to  be  noted  that,  according  to  the  ap- 
pointment of  nature,  they  all  relate  to  the  body,  and 
are  bestowed  upon  the  mind  only  in  so  far  as  it  is 
connected  with  it ;  so  that  their  natural  use  is  to 
incite  the  mind  to  consent  and  contribute  to  the 
actions  which  may  aid  in  the  preservation  of  the  body, 
or  render  it  in  any  way  more  perfect ;  and,  in  this 
sense,  sadness  and  joy  are  the  first  two  which  are 
employed.  For  the  mind  is  immediately  warned  of 
the  things  which  harm  the  body  only  through  the 
sensation  of  pain,  which  produces  in  it  first  the  pas- 
sion of  sadness  ;  next,  hatred  of  that  which  causes  this 
pain  ;  and  thirdly,  the  desire  to  be  delivered  from  it  ; 
likewise  the  mind  is  made  aware  immediately  of  things 
useful  to  the  body  only  by  some  sort  of  pleasure, 

*  In  the  intervening  Articles. 


314  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

which  excites  in  it  joy,  then  gives  birth  to  love  of  that 
which  is  believed  to  be  the  cause  of  it,  and,  finally,  the 
desire  to  acquire  that  which  can  make  the  joy  con- 
tinue, or  else  that  the  like  may  be  enjoyed  again. 
Whence  it  is  apparent  that  these  five  passions  are  all 
very  useful  as  regards  the  body,  and  also  that  sadness 
is,  in  a  certain  way,  first  and  more  necessary  than  joy, 
and  hatred  than  love,  because  it  is  more  important  to 
repel  things  which  harm  and  may  destroy  us,  than  to 
acquire  those  which  add  a  perfection  without  which 
we  can  still  subsist. 


ARTICLE  CXLIV. 

Of  desires  where  the  issue  depends  only  on  ourselves. 

But  because  the  passions  can  impel  us  to  action 
only  through  the  medium  of  the  desire  which  we 
must  take  pains  to  regulate — and  in  this  consists  the 
principal  use  of  morality  ;  now,  as  I  have  just  said,  as  it 
is  always  good  when  it  follows  a  true  knowledge,  so  it 
cannot  fail  to  be  bad  when  it  is  based  on  error.  And 
it  seems  to  me  that  the  error  most  commonly  com- 
mitted in  regard  to  desires  is  the  failure  to  distinguish 
sufficiently  the  things  which  depend  entirely  upon  our- 
selves and  those  which  do  not ;  for,  as  for  those  which 
depend  only  upon  ourselves,  that  is  to  say,  upon  our 
free  will,  it  is  sufficient  to  know  that  they  are  good  to 
make  it  impossible  for  us  to  desire  them  with  too 
great  ardor,  since  to  do  the  good  things  which  depend 
upon  ourselves  is  to  follow  virtue,  and  it  is  certain 
that  one  cannot  have  too  ardent  a  desire  for  virtue, 
and  moreover,  it  being  impossible  for  us  to  fail  of 
success  in  what  we  desire  in  this  way,  since  it  depends 
on  ourselves  alone,  we  shall  always  attain  all  the 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  315 

satisfaction  that  we  have  expected.  But  the  most 
common  fault  in  this  matter  is  not  that  too  much,  but 
too  little,  is  desired ;  and  the  sovereign  remedy 
against  that  is  to  deliver  the  mind  as  much  as  possible 
from  all  other  less  useful  desires,  then  to  try  to  under- 
stand very  clearly,  and  to  consider  attentively,  the 
excellence  of  that  which  is  to  be  desired. 

ARTICLE  CXLV. 

Of  those  which  depend  only  on  other  things. 

As  for  the  things  which  depend  in  no  wise  upon 
ourselves,  however  good  they  may  be,  they  should 
never  be  desired  with  passion  ;  not  only  because  they 
may  not  come  to  pass,  and  in  that  case  we  should  be 
so  much  the  more  cast  down,  as  we  have  the  more 
desired  them,  but  principally  because  by  occupying 
our  thoughts  they  divert  our  interest  from  other 
things  the  acquisition  of  which  depends  upon  our- 
selves. And  there  are  two  general  remedies  for  these 
vain  desires ;  the  first  is  high-mindedness  (la  gene"r- 
osite],  of  which  I  shall  speak  presently  ;  the  second  is 
frequent  meditation  on  Divine  Providence,  with  the  re- 
flection that  it  is  impossible  that  anything  should  hap- 
pen in  any  other  manner  than  has  been  determined 
from  all  eternity  by  this  Providence  ;  so  that  it  is  like 
a  destiny  or  an  immutable  necessity,  which  is  to  be 
contrasted  with  chance  in  order  to  destroy  it  as  a 
chimera  arising  only  from  an  error  of  our  under- 
standing. For  we  can  desire  only  those  things  which 
we  regard  as  being  in  some  way  possible,  and  we  do 
not  regard  as  possible  things  which  do  not  at  all  de- 
pend upon  ourselves,  except  in  so  far  as  we  think  that 
they  depend  on  chance,  that  is  to  say,  as  we  judge 


316  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

that  they  can  happen,  and  that  similar  things  have 
happened  before.  Now  this  opinion  is  based  only  on 
the  fact  that  we  do  not  know  all  the  causes  which  have 
contributed  to  each  effect ;  for  when  anything  which 
we  have  thought  depended  upon  chance  has  not  taken 
place,  this  shows  that  some  one  of  the  causes  neces- 
sary to  produce  it  was  wanting,  and,  consequently,  that 
it  was  absolutely  impossible,  and  the  like  of  it  never 
took  place  ;  that  is  to  say,  to  the  production  of  the 
like  a  similar  cause  was  also  wanting,  so  that,  had  we 
not  been  ignorant  of  that  beforehand,  we  never 
should  have  thought  it  possible,  and  consequently 
should  not  have  desired  it. 

ARTICLE  CXLVI. 

Of  those  things  which  depend  upon  ourselves  and 
others. 

It  is  necessary  then  utterly  to  reject  the  common 
opinion  that  there  is  externally  to  ourselves  a  chance 
which  causes  things  to  happen  or  not  to  happen,  at 
its  pleasure,  and  to  know,  on  the  other  hand,  that 
everything  is  guided  by  Divine  Providence,  whose 
eternal  decree  is  so  infallible  and  immutable,  that,  ex- 
cepting the  things  which  the  same  decree  has  willed 
to  depend  upon  our  free  choice,  we  must  think  that  in 
regard  to  us  nothing  happens  which  is  not  necessary, 
and,  as  it  were,  destined,  so  that  we  cannot,  without 
folly,  wish  it  to  happen  otherwise.  But  because  most 
of  our  desires  extend  to  things,  all  of  which  do  not 
depend  upon  ourselves,  nor  all  of  them  upon  others, 
we  should  distinguish  precisely  that  in  them  which  de- 
pends only  on  ourselves  in  order  to  confine  our  de- 
sires to  that;  and,  moreover,  although  we  should  con- 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  317 

sider  success  therein  to  be  altogether  a  matter  of  im- 
mutable destiny,  in  order  that  our  desires  may  not  be 
taken  up  with  it,  we  ought  not  to  fail  to  consider  the 
reasons  which  make  it  more  or  less  to  be  hoped  for,  to 
the  end  that  they  may  serve  to  regulate  our  conduct  ; 
as,  for  example,  if  we  had  business  in  a  certain  place 
to  which  we  might  go  by  two  different  roads,  one  of 
which  was  ordinarily  much  safer  than  the  other,  al- 
though perhaps  the  decree  of  Providence  was  such 
that  if  we  went  by  the  road  considered  safest  we 
should  certainly  be  robbed,  and  that,  on  the  contrary, 
we  might  travel  the  other  with  no  danger  at  all,  we 
ought  not  on  that  account  to  be  indifferent  in  choos- 
ing between  them,  nor  rest  on  the  immutable  destiny 
of  that  decree  ;  but  reason  would  have  it  that  we 
should  choose  the  road  which  was  ordinarily  consid- 
ered the  safer,  and  our  desire  should  be  satisfied  re- 
garding that  when  we  have  followed  it,  whatever  be 
the  evil  that  happens  to  us,  because  that  evil,  being  as 
regards  ourselves  inevitable,  we  have  had  no  reason 
to  desire  to  be  exempt  from  it,  but  simply  to  do  the 
very  best  that  our  understanding  is  able  to  discover, 
as  I  assume  we  have  done.  And  it  is  certain  that 
when  one  thus  makes  a  practice  of  distinguishing 
destiny  from  chance,  he  easily  accustoms  himself  so  to 
regulate  his  desires  that,  in  so  far  as  their  accomplish- 
ment depends  only  upon  himself,  they  may  always 
afford  him  entire  satisfaction. 

ARTICLE  CXLVII. 

Of  the  interior  emotions  of  the  mind. 
I  will  simply  add  a  consideration  which  appears  to 
me  of  much   service  in  averting  from  us  the  disturb- 


318  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

ance  of  the  passions  :  it  is  that  our  good  and  our  evil 
principally  depend  upon  the  interior  emotions,  which 
are  excited  in  the  mind  only  by  the  mind  itself,  in 
which  respect  they  differ  from  its  passions,  which  al- 
ways depend  upon  some  motion  of  the  spirits  ;  and 
although  these  emotions  of  the  mind  are  often  united 
with  the  passions  which  resemble  them,  they  may 
often  also  agree  with  others,  and  even  arise  from  those 

which  are  contrary  to  them And  when  we 

read  of  strange  adventures  in  a  book,  or  see  them  rep- 
resented on  the  stage,  this  excites  in  us  sometimes 
sadness,  sometimes  joy,  or  love,  or  hatred,  and,  in  gen- 
eral, all  the  passions,  according  to  the  diversity  of 
the  objects  which  present  themselves  to  our  imagina- 
tion ;  but  along  with  that  we  have  the  pleasure  of  feel- 
ing them  excited  within  us,  and  this  pleasure  is  an  in- 
tellectual joy,  which  can  arise  from  sadness  as  well  as 
from  any  other  passion.* 

ARTICLE  CXLVIII. 

That  the  practice  of  virtue  is  a  sovereign  remedy  for 
all  the  passions. 

Now,  inasmuch  as  these  interior  emotions  touch  us 
more  nearly,  and  in  consequence  have  much  greater 
power  over  us  than  the  passions  from  which  they 
differ,  which  occur  with  them,  it  is  certain  that,  pro- 
vided the  mind  have  that  within  wherewith  it  may  be 
content,  all  the  troubles  which  come  from  elsewhere 
have  no  power  whatever  to  disturb  it,  but  rather  serve 
to  augment  its  joy,  in  that,  seeing  that  it  cannot  be 
troubled  by  them,  it  is  thereby  made  aware  of  its  own 
superiority.  And  to  the  end  that  the  mind  may  have 
that  wherewith  to  be  content,  it  needs  but  to  follow 

*  Cf.  Aristotle,  Poetics,  6. 


PSYCHOLOGY!       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  319 

virtue  perfectly.  For  whoever  has  lived  in  such  a 
manner  that  his  conscience  cannot  reproach  him  with 
ever  having  failed  to  do  any  of  those  things  which  he 
has  judged  to  be  the  best  (which  is  what  I  call  here 
following  virtue),  he  enjoys  a  satisfaction  so  potent  in 
ministering  to  his  happiness,  that  the  most  violent 
efforts  of  the  passions  never  have  power  enough  to 
disturb  the  tranquillity  of  his  mind. 


320  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 


PART   III. 

ARTICLE  CXLIX. 

Of  esteem  and  contempt. 

HAVING  explained  the  six  primitive  passions,  which 
are,  as  it  were,  genera,  of  which  all  the  rest  are  spe- 
cies, I  will  here  notice  briefly  what  special  ones  there 
are  in  each  of  the  others,  and  will  observe  the  same 
order  in  accordance  with  which  I  have  enumerated 
them  above.  The  first  two  are  esteem  and  contempt ; 
for,  although  these  names  ordinarily  signify  only  the 
opinion  held,  without  passion,  concerning  the  value  of 
anything,  nevertheless,  because  from  these  opinions 
there  often  arise  passions  to  which  no  particular 
names  have  been  given,  it  seems  to  me  that  these  may 
be  assigned  to  them.  And  esteem,  in  so  far  as  it  is  a 
passion,  is  an  inclination  which  the  mind  has  to  rep- 
resent to  itself  the  value  of  the  thing  esteemed, 
which  inclination  is  caused  by  a  particular  motion  of 
the  spirits,  so  converged  into  the  brain  as  to  strengthen 
the  impressions  which  relate  to  this  subject ;  while, 
on  the  contrary,  the  passion  of  contempt  is  an  inclina- 
tion which  the  mind  has  to  dwell  upon  the  baseness 
or  littleness  of  that  which  it  despises,  caused  by  the 
motion  of  the  spirits  which  strengthens  the  idea  of 
this  littleness. 

ARTICLE  CL. 
Thus  these  two  passions  are  only  species  of  wonder. 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  321 

ARTICLE  CLI. 

Now  these  two  passions  may,  generally  speaking, 
relate  to  all  sorts  of  objects ;  but  they  are  chiefly 
worthy  of  attention  when  they  relate  to  ourselves,  that 
is  to  say,  when  it  is  our  own  merit  or  demerit  that  we 
judge  of  ;  and  the  motion  of  the  spirits  which  causes 
them  is  then  so  manifest  that  it  shows  itself  in  the 
whole  bearing,  the  gestures,  the  walk,  and,  in  general, 
in  all  the  actions  of  those  who  conceive  a  better  or  a 
worse  opinion  of  themselves  than  common. 

ARTICLE  CLII. 

The  ground  of  self-esteem. 

And  inasmuch  as  one  chief  part  of  wisdom  is  to 
know  in  what  degree  and  on  what  ground  one  ought 
to  esteem  or  contemn  himself,  I  will  now  attempt  to 
state  my  opinion.  I  observe  within  ourselves  but  one 
thing  which  can  afford  just  ground  for  self-esteem, 
namely,  the  use  we  make  of  our  free-will,  and  the 
control  we  have  over  our  desires  ;  for  it  is  only  the 
actions  which  depend  upon  this  free-will  for  which  we 
may,  with  reason,  be  praised  or  blamed  ;  and  it  makes 
us  in  a  certain  way  like  to  Deity,  by  making  us  masters 
of  ourselves,  provided  we  do  not,  by  a  base  remiss- 
ness,  lose  the  rights  which  it  confers. 

ARTICLE   CLIII. 

In  what  high-mindedness  consists. 

Accordingly  I  think  that  true  high-mindedness 
(gentrosite),  which  makes  a  man  esteem  himself  as 
highly  as  it  is  legitimate  for  him  to  do,  simply  consists, 
in  part,  in  his  being  persuaded  that  there  is  nothing 


322  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PARTY 

which  truly  belongs  to  him  but  this  free  control  over 
his  desires,  and  that  there  is  no  reason  why  he  should 
be  praised  or  blamed,  except  because  he  has  used  this 
power  well  or  ill  ;  and,  in  part,  that  he  is  conscious 
within  himself  of  a  firm  and  steadfast  determination 
to  use  it  well,  that  is  to  say,  never  to  fail  willingly  to 
undertake  and  to  carry  out  all  things  which  he  shall 
judge  to  be  the  best :  which  is  to  follow  virtue  per- 
fectly. 

ARTICLE  CLIV. 

That  it  keeps  one  from  despising  others. 

Those  who  have  this  knowledge  and  sentiment  con- 
cerning themselves  are  easily  persuaded  that  any 
other  man  may  have  it  also  of  himself,  because  there 
is  nothing  in  it  which  depends  on  other  persons.  It 
is  for  this  reason  that  they  never  despise  anyone  ; 
and  although  they  see  that  others  commit  faults  which 
betray  their  weakness,  they  are  nevertheless  more  in- 
clined to  excuse  than  to  blame  them,  and  to  believe 
that  it  is  more  from  want  of  knowledge  than  from 
want  of  will  that  they  have  done  these  things  ;  and 
while  they  do  not  think  themselves  much  inferior  to 
those  who  have  greater  possessions  or  honors,  or  even 
to  those  who  have  more  intellect,  more  learning,  more 
beauty,  or,  in  general,  who  surpass  them  in  any  other 
perfections,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  they  do  not  esteem 
themselves  much  above  those  whom  they  surpass, 
because  all  these  things  appear  to  them  quite  incon- 
siderable in  comparison  with  the  good  will,  for  which 
alone  they  esteem  themselves,  and  which  they  assume 
to  be,  or  at  least  may  possibly  be,  in  every  other 
man. 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  323 

ARTICLE  CLV. 

In  what  virtuous  humility  consists. 

Thus  the  most  high-minded  are  usually  the  most 
humble ;  and  virtuous  humility  consists  simply  in 
this,  that  reflecting  on  the  infirmity  of  our  nature  and 
upon  the  faults  which  we  have  committed  in  the  past, 
or  are  capable  of  committing,  which  are  not  less  than 
those  of  others,  we  do  not  prefer  ourselves  above  any- 
one else,  mindful  that  others  have  free-will  as  well  as 
we,  and  may  make  as  good  use  of  it. 

ARTICLE  CLVI. 

The  characteristics  of  high- minded  ness,  arid  how  it 
serves  as  a  remedy  for  all  the  disorders  of  the  passions. 

Those  who  are  high-minded,  after  this  sort,  are 
naturally  led  to  do  great  things,  and  yet  not  to  attempt 
anything  of  which  they  do  not  think  themselves  capa- 
ble ;  and  because  they  do  not  esteem  anything  greater 
than  to  do  good  to  other  men,  and  to  think  lightly  of 
their  own  advantage,  for  this  reason  they  are  always 
perfectly  courteous,  affable,  and  obliging  toward  every- 
one. And  at  the  same  time  they  have  complete  con- 
trol of  their  passions,  particularly  of  the  desires,  of 
jealousy  and  envy,  inasmuch  as  there  is  nothing  the 
acquisition  of  which  does  not  depend  on  themselves, 
that  they  think  worth  sighing  for  ;  and  they  are  able 
to  control  the  passion  of  hatred,  because  they  think 
well  of  all  men  ;  and  of  fear,  because  the  confidence 
they  have  in  their  virtue  gives  them  assurance  ;  and 
finally,  of  anger,  because,  esteeming  but  lightly  all 
things  which  depend  on  others,  they  never  give  so 
much  advantage  to  their  enemies  as  to  show  that  they 
have  been  offended 


324  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.        [PART  V 

ARTICLE   CLXXXV. 

Of  pity. 

Pity  is  a  species  of  grief,  mingled  with  love  or  good 
will  toward  those  whom  we  see  suffering  some  evil 
which  we  think  they  have  not  deserved.  It  is  thus 
contrary  to  envy,  by  virtue  of  its  object,  and  to  ridi- 
cule, because  it  regards  that  object  in  a  different 
way. 

ARTICLE  CLXXXVI. 

Who  are  the  most  compassionate. 

Those  who  are  keenly  sensible  of  their  infirmities, 
and  of  their  exposure  to  the  adversities  of  fortune, 
appear  to  be  more  inclined  to  this  feeling  than  others, 
because  they  represent  the  evil  which  happens  to 
another  as  something  which  might  happen  to  them- 
selves ;  and  they  are  thus  moved  to  compassion  rather 
through  the  love  which  they  bear  themselves  than  that 
they  have  for  others. 

ARTICLE  CLXXXVII. 

Hoiv  the  more  generous  are  affected  by  this  sentiment. 

But,  nevertheless,  those  who  are  more  noble  and  who 
have  the  greater  fortitude,  so  that  they  fear  no  evil 
for  themselves,  and  thus  place  themselves  beyond  the 
power  of  fortune,  are  not  devoid  of  pity  when  they 
look  upon  the  infirmities  of  others  and  hear  their  com- 
plaints ;  for  it  is  the  mark  of  the  noble  mind  to  desire 
the  happiness  of  everyone.  But  the  sadness  of  this 
pity  is  not  bitter,  and,  like  that  caused  by  the  tragic 
scenes  which  one  witnesses  in  a  theater,  it  is  rather  an 
external  affair  and  more  a  matter  of  the  senses  than 


PSYCHOLOGY]       PASSIONS  OF  THE  SOUL.  325 

of  the  mind  itself,*  which,  nevertheless,  has  the  satis- 
faction of  thinking  it  has  discharged  its  duty  in  that 
it  has  sympathized  with  the  afflicted.  And  there  is 
this  difference,  that  whereas  most  people  feel  pity  for 
those  who  complain,  because  they  think  that  the  evils 
they  suffer  are  very  serious,  the  principal  object  of 
compassion  on  the  part  of  greater  minds,  on  the  other 
hand,  is  the  weakness  of  those  whom  they  see  com- 
plaining,  because  they  consider  that  no  adversity  that 
can  possibly  occur  is  so  great  an  evil  as  the  pusilla- 
nimity of  those  who  cannot  endure  it  with  constancy  ; 
and,  although  they  abhor  vices,  they  do  not  abhor 
those  whom  they  perceive  to  be  subject  to  them,  but 
simply  regard  them  with  pity 

ARTICLE  CCXII. 

That  upon  the  passions  alone  depend  all  the  good  and 
the  evil  of  this  life. 

To  conclude  :  The  mind  may  indeed  have  its  own 
pleasures  apart  from  the  body,  but  as  for  those  which 
it  has  in  common  with  the  body,  these  depend  entirely 

*  "  Not  always.  A  man  of  great  fortitude  and  nobleness  of 
character  may  at  the  same  time  possess  great  constitutional  sensi- 
bility, with  a  lively  imagination.  Now  the  latter  will  represent  to 
him  the  distresses  of  another,  whether  known  by  verbal  descrip- 
tion, or  by  the  usual  signs  and  visual  language  of  pain  or  grief, 
with  great  vividness  and  distinctness  of  impression,  and  thus  pro- 
duce in  his  own  passive  life  perhaps  even  more  acute  feelings  and 
stronger  sentiments  of  grief  than  the  actual  sufferer's  nature  is  sus- 
ceptible of — while  he  cannot  take  for  granted  an  equal  share  of 
fortitude  with  himself.  He  fancies  himself  suffering  the  distress 
without  the  power  of  enduring  it — and  apart  from  the  alleviations 
and  compensations  with  which  it  would  be  accompanied  in  his  own 
instance — and  this  may  be  a  very  painful  sympathy. — S.  T.  C." 
Marginal  jotting  by  Coleridge. 


326  THE   PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES. 

upon  the  passions,  insomuch  that  the  men  whom  they 
can  most  deeply  stir  are  capable  of  tasting  most  sen- 
sibly the  sweetness  of  this  life,  but  it  is  true  also  they 
may  experience  most  keenly  its  bitterness,  in  case 
they  know  not  how  to  regulate  them,  or  fortune  be 
contrary  ;  but  in  this  very  thing  appears  the  principal 
use  of  wisdom,  that  it  teaches  a  man  how  to  become 
master  of  himself,  and  so  skillfully  to  regulate  his  pas- 
sions that  the  evils  they  cause  shall  be  quite  endur- 
able, while  from  every  one  of  them  he  shall  extract  its 
due  delight. 


ETHICS. 

LETTERS  ON  THE  HAPPY   LIFE  AND  THE 
HIGHEST  GOOD. 


ON  THE  HAPPY  LIFE.* 

WHEN  I  decided  upon  Seneca's  book  De  Vita 
Beata  to  propose  to  your  Highness  as  an  agreeable 
subject  for  correspondence,  I  had  in  mind  merely  the 
reputation  of  the  author  and  the  importance  of  the 
subject,  without  considering  the  treatment  he  had 
given  it,  which,  when  I  did  consider  afterward,  I  did 
not  find  to  be  quite  careful  enough  to  deserve  to  be 
followed.  But  in  order  that  your  Highness  may  the 
more  easily  judge  of  it,  I  will  endeavor  to  explain  in 
what  manner  it  seems  to  me  that  this  subject  should 
have  been  treated  by  a  philosopher  such  as  he  was, 
who,  not  being  enlightened  by  faith,  had  only  natural 
reason  for  his  guide.  He  says  very  well  at  the  be- 
ginning :  Vivere  omnes  beate  volunt,  sed  ad pervidendum 
quid  sit  quod  beatam  vitam  efficiat,  caligant.  But  we 
need  to  know  what  vivere  beate  is.  I  would  say  in 
French  vivre  heureusement,  if  it  were  not  that  there  is 
a  difference  between  I'heur  and  la  latitude,  namely, 
that  Vheur  depends  merely  on  things  external  to  us, 
whence  it  comes  about  that  those  are  rather  to  be 
esteemed  fortunate  than  prudent  (sages)  to  whom 
some  good  happens  which  they  have  not  themselves 
procured,  whereas  la  beatitude  consists,  as  it  seems  to 
me,  in  a  perfect  contentment  of  spirit  and  an  interior 
satisfaction  which  the  most  favored  of  Fortune  do  not 
commonly  have  and  which  the  virtuous  (les  sages) 
acquire  without  her  aid.  Accordingly,  vivere  beate, 

*  Letters  to  the  Princess  Elisabeth,  (Euvres,  t.  ix,  pp.  210-249. 


33°  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF   DESCARTES.     [PART  VI 

vivre  en  beatitude,  is  nothing  else  than  to  have  the 
mind  perfectly  content  and  satisfied. 

Considering  next  what  quod  beatam  vitam  efficiat 
means,  that  is  to  say,  what  the  things  are  which  are 
able  to  yield  us  this  supreme  contentment,  I  observe 
that  they  are  of  two  kinds,  namely,  those  which  de- 
pend upon  ourselves,  such  as  virtue  and  wisdom,  and 
those  which  do  not  depend  upon  ourselves,  such  as 
honors,  riches,  and  health  ;  for  it  is  certain  that  a  man 
well-born,  who  is  in  health,  and  in  want  of  nothing, 
and  who,  besides  that,  is  as  wise  and  virtuous  as 
another  man  who  is  poor,  sickly,  and  deformed,  can 
enjoy  the  more  complete  contentment.  Still,  as  a 
little  vessel  may  be  as  full  as  a  larger  one,  although 
it  hold  less  liquid,  so,  taking  the  contentment  of  each 
to  mean  the  fulfillment  and  satisfaction  of  his  desires 
regulated  according  to  reason,  I  do  not  doubt  that 
the  poorest  and  most  disgraced  of  fortune  or  of 
nature  may  be  as  entirely  content  and  satisfied  as 
others,  although  they  may  not  enjoy  so  many  advan- 
tages. And  it  is  this  sort  of  contentment  only  which 
is  here  considered ;  for  since  the  other  is  in  no  wise 
within  our  power,  inquiry  regarding  it  would  be 
superfluous.  Now  it  seems  to  me  that  everyone  has  it 
in  his  power  to  secure  contentment  from  himself 
alone,  without  seeking  for  it  elsewhere,  provided  only 
he  will  observe  three  things,  to  which  relate  the  three 
rules  of  conduct  which  I  have  laid  down  in  the  Dis- 
course on  Method.* 

The  first  is  that  he  always  endeavor  to  use  his 
mind  in  the  best  way  possible  to  him,  to  find  out  what 
ought  to  be  done  or  not  to  be  done  in  all  the  occur- 
rences of  life.  The  second  is  that  he  maintain  a  firm 
*  (Euvres,  t.  i,  pp.  146-153.  See  above,  pp.  50-55. 


ETHICS]  ON    THE    HAPPY    LIFE.  331 

and  constant  resolution  to  carry  out  everything  which 
his  reason  dictates,  without  being  turned  aside  there- 
from by  his  passions  or  his  appetites  ;  and  it  is  this 
firmness  of  resolution  which  I  believe  should  betaken 
for  virtue,  although  I  am  not  aware  that  anyone 
hitherto  has  so  defined  it ;  but  it  has  been  divided 
into  many  species,  to  which  different  names  have  been 
given,  in  view  to  the  different  objects  to  which  it 
relates. 

The  third,  that,  while  he  is  thus  conducting  his  life 
so  far  as  possible  in  accordance  with  reason,  he 
consider  all  advantages  which  he  does  not  possess  as 
being  one  and  all  entirely  beyond  his  power,  and  that 
he  thus  accustom  himself  not  to  desire  them  ;  for 
there  is  nothing  but  desire  or  regret  or  repentance 
which  can  prevent  us  from  being  contented.  But  if 
we  always  do  as  our  reason  dictates,  we  shall  never 
have  any  occasion  for  repentance,  because,  although 
in  the  event  we  may  see  that  we  were  deceived,  it  could 
not  be  through  our  own  fault.  And  the  reason  why 
we  do  not  desire  to  have,  for  example,  more  arms  or 
more  tongues  than  we  do,  but  desire  rather  to  have  more 
health  and  more  riches,  is  merely  that  we  imagine  that 
these  latter  may  be  acquired  by  our  effort,  or  perhaps 
that  they  are  due  to  our  birth,  and  in  the  other  case  it 
is  not  so.  We  ought  to  rid  ourselves  of  this  opinion, 
by  considering  that,  in  case  we  have  always  followed 
the  dictates  of  our  reason,  we  have  omitted  nothing  of 
that  which  was  within  our  power,  and  that  maladies 
and  misfortunes  are  no  less  natural  to  man  than  pros- 
perity and  health. 

Finally,  not  every  sort  of  desire  is  incompatible 
with  true  happiness  (la  beatitude]  but  only  those  which 
are  accompanied  with  impatience  and  sadness.  It  is 


332  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  VI 

not  necessary,  also,  that  our  reason  never  deceive  us; 
it  is  enough  that  our  conscience  give  its  inward  wit- 
ness that  we  have  never  been  wanting  in  the  resolution 
and  the  virtue  to  perform  everything  which  we  have 
judged  to  be  the  best ;  and  thus  virtue  alone  is  suf- 
ficient to  make  us  contented  in  this  life. 

But  nevertheless,  inasmuch  as  our  virtue,  when  it 
is  not  sufficiently  enlightened  by  the  understanding, 
may  be  false,  that  is  to  say,  the  resolution  and  the 
will  to  do  right  may  take  us  to  things  which  are  bad 
when  we  believe  them  to  be  good,  the  contentment 
which  results  from  it  is  not  secure  ;  and  inasmuch  as 
this  virtue  is  ordinarily  opposed  to  pleasures,  to  appe- 
tites, and  to  passions,  it  is  very  difficult  to  put  in  prac- 
tice ;  whereas  the  right  use  of  reason,  affording  a  true 
knowledge  of  the  good,  prevents  virtue  from  becoming 
false  ;  and  also,  by  bringing  it  into  accord  with  lawful 
pleasures,  it  renders  the  practice  of  it  so  easy,  and,  by 
making  us  understand  the  limitations  of  our  nature,  so 
limits  our  desires  that  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
highest  happiness  of  man  depends  on  this  right  use  of 
reason,  and  consequently  that  the  study  which  leads 
to  its  acquisition  is  the  most  useful  occupation  in 
which  one  can  engage,  as  it  is  also,  undoubtedly,  the 
most  agreeable  and  pleasant. 

Accordingly,  it  seems  to  me  that  Seneca  should  have 
taught  us  all  the  principal  truths  the  knowledge  of 
which  is  requisite  to  facilitate  the  practice  of  virtue 
and  to  regulate  our  desires  and  our  passions,  and  thus 
to  secure  our  natural  happiness,  which  would  have 
made  his  book  the  best  and  the  most  useful  that  a 
pagan  philosopher  could  have  written 

.  .  .  .  I  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  there 
is  a  difference  between  true  happiness  (la  beatitude} t 


ETHICS]  ON    THE    HAPPY    LIFE.  333 

the  highest  good,  and  the  final  aim  or  end  to  which 
our  actions  should  be  directed  ;  for  true  happiness  is 
not  the  highest  good,  but  it  presupposes  it,  and  is  the 
contentment  or  satisfaction  of  mind  which  results 
from  its  possession.  But  by  the  end  of  our  actions 
we  may  understand  both  ;  for  the  highest  good  is  un- 
doubtedly that  which  we  ought  to  propose  to  ourselves 
as  the  end  in  all  our  actions  ;  and  the  contentment  of 
mind  which  springs  from  it,  being  the  attraction  which 
makes  us  seek  it,  is  also  with  good  reason  called  our 
end. 

I  observe,  further,  that  the  word  pleasure  was  taken 
in  a  different  sense  by  Epicurus  from  what  it  was  by 
those  who  disputed  with  him  ;  for  all  his  opponents 
restricted  the  meaning  of  this  word  to  the  pleasures 
of  the  senses,  while  he,  on  the  contrary,  extended  it 
to  all  satisfactions  of  the  mind,  as  may  readily  be 
seen  from  what  Seneca  and  others  wrote  about  him. 

Now  there  were  three  principal  opinions  held  by 
pagan  philosophers  touching  the  highest  good  and  the 
end  of  our  actions  :  to  wit,  that  of  Epicurus,  who 
said  it  was  pleasure  ;  that  of  Zeno,  who  decided  it  to 
be  virtue  ;  and  that  of  Aristotle,  who  made  it  consist 
of  all  the  perfections  as  well  of  the  body  as  of  the 
mind.  These  three  opinions  may,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
be  taken  as  true  and  accordant  with  one  another,  pro- 
vided  they  are  favorably  interpreted.  For  Aristotle, 
having  in  view  the  highest  good  of  our  whole  human 
nature  taken  in  general — that  is  to  say,  that  which  the 
most  perfect  of  mankind  may  attain — is  right  in  mak- 
ing it  consist  of  all  the  perfections  of  which  human 
nature  is  capable  ;  but  that  does  not  serve  our  turn. 
Zeno,  on  the  other  hand,  took  it  to  be  what  each  man 
in  his  own  person  may  possess  ;  that  is  why  he  was 


334  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  VI 

quite  right  in  saying,  also,  that  it  consists  only  in  virtue, 
because  it  is  that  alone  among  all  the  goods  we  can 
possess  which  depends  entirely  upon  our  free  will. 
But  he  represented  this  virtue  as  being  so  severe  and 
so  opposed  to  pleasure,  by  making  all  vices  equal, 
that,  as  it  seems  to  me,  only  melancholy  persons,  or 
those  whose  minds  were  entirely  detached  from  the 
body,  could  have  been  his  followers. 

Finally,  Epicurus  was  not  wrong,  when,  considering 
the  nature  of  true  happiness  and  the  motive  or  end  of 
our  actions,  he  said  it  was  pleasure  in  general,  that  is 
to  say,  contentment  of  mind  ;  for  although  the  sim- 
ple knowledge  of  our  duty  may  oblige  us  to  perform 
good  actions,  that,  nevertheless,  would  not  cause  us  to 
enjoy  any  happiness,  if  no  pleasure  came  to  us  from 
it.  But  inasmuch  as  the  name  pleasure  is  often  at- 
tributed to  false  delights,  which  are  accompanied  or 
followed  by  disquietude,  ennui,  and  repentance,  many 
persons  have  thought  that  this  opinion  of  Epicurus 
inculcated  vice  ;  and,  indeed,  it  does  not  inculcate 
virtue.  But  just  as  when  there  is  a  prize  offered  for 
shooting  at  a  mark,  those  to  whom  the  prize  has  been 
shown  have  a  desire  to  shoot,  but  yet  cannot  gain  it  if 
they  do  not  look  at  the  mark  ;  and  those  who  look 
at  the  mark  are  not  thereby  induced  to  shoot  at  it, 
unless  they  know  that  there  is  a  prize  to  be  gained  ; 
so  virtue,  which  is  the  mark,  does  not  excite  desire 
when  seen  by  itself  alone,  and  contentment,  which  is 
the  prize,  cannot  be  gained,  unless  the  virtue  be 
practiced. 

This  is  why  I  think  I  may  rightly  conclude  that 
true  happiness  consists  solely  in  contentment  of  mind 
(that  is  to  say,  in  contentment  taken  in  general  ;  for 
although  there  are  forms  of  contentment  which  de- 


ETHICS]  ON    THE    HAPPY    LIFE.  335 

pend  upon  the  body,  and  others  which  do  not  depend 
upon  it,  there,  nevertheless,  is  none  which  does  not 
exist  within  the  mind)  ;  but  to  have  a  contentment 
which  is  secure,  one  must  follow  virtue,  that  is  to  say, 
one  must  have  a  firm  and  constant  will  to  perform  all 
that  he  judges  to  be  the  best,  and  employ  the  whole 
force  of  his  understanding  to  secure  a  right  judgment. 
....  But  in  order  that  we  may  know  precisely 
how  much  each  thing  may  contribute  to  our  content- 
ment, the  causes  which  produce  it  must  be  consid- 
ered, and  this  is  one  of  the  main  things  to  be  known 
to  facilitate  the  practice  of  virtue.  For  all  acts  of  the 
soul  which  lead  to  the  acquisition  of  any  perfection  are 
virtuous,  and  our  whole  contentment  consists  only  in 
the  interior  witness  that  we  have  acquired  some  per- 
fection. Accordingly,  we  never  shall  practice  any 
virtue,  that  is  to  say,  do  anything  which  our  reason 
persuades  us  we  ought  to  do,  without  receiving  there- 
from satisfaction  and  pleasure.  But  there  are  two 
kinds  of  pleasures,  the  one  pertaining  to  the  mind 
alone,  the  other  to  man,  that  is  to  say,  to  the  mind  in 
its  union  with  the  body  ;  and  the  latter,  presenting 
themselves  confusedly  to  the  imagination,  often  ap- 
pear greater  than  they  are,  especially  before  they  are 
possessed — which  is  the  source  of  all  the  evils  and  of 
all  the  errors  of  life.  For,  according  to  the  rule  of 
reason,  each  pleasure  should  be  measured  by  the 
greatness  of  the  perfection  which  produces  it,  and  it  is 
thus  that  we  measure  those  the  causes  of  which  are 
clearly  known  by  us  ;  but,  frequently,  passion  makes 
us  believe  certain  things  much  better  and  more  desir- 
able than  they  are  ;  afterward,  when  we  have  taken 
great  trouble  to  acquire  them  and  have  lost  mean- 
while the  opportunity  to  gain  other  things  which  are 


336  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  VI 

really  better,  the  enjoyment  of  them  makes  us  aware 
of  their  defects  ;  whence  come  disgust,  regret,  repent- 
ance. Hence  the  office  of  reason  is  to  examine  into 
the  true  value  of  all  the  goods  the  acquisition  of  which 
depends  in  any  manner  upon  our  conduct,  in  order 
that  we  may  never  fail  to  use  all  our  diligence  in  the 
endeavor  to  acquire  for  ourselves  those  which  are  in 
reality  the  most  desirable  :  in  which,  if  fortune  oppose 
our  designs  and  hinder  our  success,  we  shall  at  least 
have  the  satisfaction  of  losing  nothing  through  our 
own  fault,  and  we  shall  not  fail  of  enjoying  all  the 
natural  happiness  the  acquisition  of  which  was  within 
our  power.  Thus,  for  example,  anger  may  excite  in 
us  such  violent  desire  for  revenge  as  to  lead  us  to 
imagine  more  pleasure  in  punishing  our  enemy  than  in 
preserving  our  honor  or  our  life,  and  imprudently  to 
imperil  both  for  this  end. 

Whereas,  if  reason  inquire  what  is  the  good  or  per- 
fection upon  which  is  founded  this  pleasure  which  pro- 
ceeds from  revenge,  it  will  find  no  other  (at  least 
when  the  revenge  does  not  serve  merely  to  prevent  a 
fresh  offense),  than  that  it  makes  us  imagine  that  we 
have  some  superiority  or  some  advantage  over  him  upon 
whom  we  take  vengeance  :  which  is  often  only  a  vain 
imagination  not  worth  considering  in  comparison  with 
honor  or  life  ;  nor  even  in  comparison  with  the  satis- 
faction that  one  would  have  in  seeing  himself  master 
of  his  anger  and  in  abstaining  from  revenge.  And 
the  same  is  true  of  all  the  other  passions  :  for  there 
is  none  of  them  which  does  not  represent  the  good  to 
which  it  tends  in  brighter  colors  than  it  deserves,  and 
which  does  not  make  us  imagine  its  delights  far 
greater,  before  we  possess  them,  than  we  find  them  to 
be  afterward,  when  they  are  ours.  This  is  why  pleas- 


ETHICS]  ON    THE    HAPPY    LIFE.  337 

ure  is  commonly  condemned  ;  because  this  word  is 
used  to  signify  false  delights  which  often  deceive  us 
by  their  appearance  and  cause  us  meanwhile  to  neg- 
lect other  far  more  substantial  ones,  the  aspect  of 
which  does  not  affect  us  so  much,  as  is  ordinarily  the 
case  with  purely  intellectual  pleasures  ;  I  say  ordi- 
narily, for  not  all  pleasures  of  the  mind  are  praise- 
worthy, since  they  may  be  founded  on  some  false 
opinion,  as  the  pleasure  which  one  may  find  in  detrac- 
tion, which  is  based  solely  on  the  notion  that  one  must 
be  so  much  the  more  esteemed  as  others  are  less  so  ; 
and  they  can  also  deceive  us  by  their  appearance,  when 
some  strong  passion  accompanies  them,  as  is  seen  in 
one  who  yields  to  ambition.  But  the  principal  differ- 
ence between  the  pleasures  of  the  body  and  those  of 
the  mind  consists  in  the  fact  that  the  body  being  sub- 
ject to  perpetual  change,  and  its  very  preservation  and 
its  welfare  being  dependent  on  this  change,  all  its 
pleasures  are  of  short  duration  ;  for  they  proceed  only 
from  the  acquisition  of  something  which  is  useful  to 
the  body  at  the  moment  that  it  receives  it,  and  as  soon 
as  it  ceases  to  be  useful  to  it,  the  pleasure  ceases  also  ; 
whereas,  those  of  the  mind  may  be  as  immortal  as  it- 
self, provided  they  have  a  foundation  so  solid  that 
neither  knowledge  of  the  truth,  nor  any  false  per- 
suasion, may  destroy  it. 

Finally,  the  true  use  of  our  reason  for  the  conduct 
of  life  consists  simply  in  the  examination  and  dispas- 
sionate estimate  of  the  value  of  all  perfections,  as 
well  those  of  the  body  as  of  the  mind,  which  can  be 
acquired  by  our  own  effort,  in  order  that,  being  com- 
monly obliged  to  do  without  some  in  order  to  have 
others,  we  may  always  choose  the  best ;  and  since 
those  of  the  body  are  the  least,  it  can,  in  general,  be 


338  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.      [PART  VI 

said  that  without  them  one  has  the  means  of  making 
himself  happy.  Still  I  am  not  of  the  opinion  that 
they  should  be  entirely  slighted,  nor  even  that  one 
should  be  exempt  from  passions  ;  it  is  enough  that 
they  be  made  amenable  to  reason,  and  when  they 
have  thus  been  made  tractable,  they  are  often  the 
more  useful  in  proportion  as  they  incline  to  ex- 
cess  

....  There  can  be,  I  think,  but  two  things  requi- 
site to  our  always  being  disposed  to  judge  rightly ; 
one  is  knowledge  of  the  truth,  the  other  the  habit  of 
reminding  one's  self  of  this  knowledge,  and  of  con- 
forming to  it  whenever  occasion  requires  it.  But 
since  it  is  God  only  who  perfectly  knows  all  things, 
we  must  content  ourselves  with  knowing  those  which 
most  nearly  concern  us  ;  among  which  is  first  and 
chief  that  there  is  a  God  upon  whom  all  things  de- 
pend, whose  perfections  are  infinite,  whose  power  is 
unlimited,  whose  decrees  are  infallible  ;  for  this 
teaches  us  to  receive  in  good  part  whatever  happens 
to  us  as  being  expressly  sent  to  us  from  God.  And 
since  the  true  object  of  love  is  perfection,  when  we 
raise  our  minds  to  think  of  him  as  he  truly  is,  we  find 
ourselves  naturally  so  inclined  to  love  him  that  we 
extract  joy  even  from  our  afflictions,  when  we  think 
that  his  will  is  being  done  in  our  receiving  them. 

The  second  thing  to  be  known  is  the  nature  of  the 
soul,  inasmuch  as  it  exists  without  the  body,  and  is 
much  more  noble  than  it,  and  is  capable  of  enjoying 
an  infinitude  of  pleasures  which  are  not  found  in  this 
present  life ;  for  this  rids  us  of  the  fear  of  death,  and 
so  detaches  our  affection  from  earthly  things  that  we 
look  with  mere  disdain  upon  all  that  is  within  the 
power  of  fortune. 


ETHICS]  ON    THE   HAPPY    LIFE.  339 

It  will  also  be  of  much  advantage  to  us  to  take 
worthy  views  of  the  works  of  God  and  entertain  that 
vast  idea  of  the  extent  of  the  universe  which  I  have 
endeavored  to  unfold  in  the  third  book  of  my  Prin- 
ciples* For  if  we  suppose  that  beyond  the  heavens 
there  is  nothing  but  empty  space  (des  espaces  imagi- 
naires),  and  that  the  whole  heavens  were  made  only 
for  the  sake  of  the  earth,  and  the  earth  only  for  man, 
we  are  led  to  think  that  this  earth  is  our  principal 
abode,  and  the  present  life  our  best  ;  and  instead  of 
recognizing  the  perfections  which  we  truly  have,  we 
attribute  to  other  creatures  imperfections  which  they 
have  not,  in  order  to  exalt  ourselves  above  them  ; 
and  going  on  in  our  impertinent  presumption,  we 
would  enter  into  the  counsels  of  Deity  and  undertake 
with  him  the  management  of  the  world — a  source  of 
vain  disquietude  and  vexation  without  end. 

When  we  have  thus  taken  into  account  the  good- 
ness of  God,  the  immortality  of  our  souls,  and  the 
greatness  of  the  universe,  there  is  still  one  truth  more, 
the  recognition  of  which  seems  to  me  to  be  very  use- 
ful, which  is  this,  that  although  each  one  of  us  is  a 
person  separate  from  others,  whose  interests,  conse- 
quently, are  in  some  degree  distinct  from  those  of 
the  rest  of  the  world,  it  must  still  be  remembered  that 
one  cannot  exist  alone,  that  he  is  in  reality  a  part  of 
the  universe,  still  more  particularly  a  part  of  this 
earth,  a  member  of  the  state,  the  society,  the  family, 
to  which  he  is  joined  by  his  abode,  his  oath  of  allegiance, 
his  birth  ;  and  he  must  always  prefer  the  interests  of 
the  whole  of  which  he  is  a  part  to  those  of  himself  in 
particular,  yet  with  measure  and  discretion  :  for  it 
would  be  wrong  for  one  to  expose  himself  to  a  great 

*  (Euvres,  t.  iii,  p.   180. 


340  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  VI 

evil  in  order  to  secure  a  trifling  advantage  to  his 
family  or  his  country ;  and  if  a  man  is  worth  more, 
himself  alone,  than  all  the  rest  of  his  town,  he  would 
not  be  right,  were  he  willing,  to  sacrifice  himself  to 
save  the  town. 

But  if  one  refers  everything  to  himself,  he  will  not 
shrink  from  doing  considerable  harm  to  other  men, 
when  he  thinks  he  may  gain  some  small  advantage 
from  it,  and  he  will  have  no  true  friendship,  nor  fidel- 
ity, nor  any  virtue  at  all ;  whereas,  by  considering 
himself  a  part  of  the  public,  one  takes  pleasure  in 
doing  good  to  everybody,  and  even  does  not  fear  to 
expose  his  life  for  the  welfare  of  others  when  occa- 
sion presents  itself ;  as  one  might  be  willing  even  to 
lose  his  own  soul,  if  it  were  possible,  to  save  others  : 
so  that  this  way  of  looking  at  things  is  the  source  and 
origin  of  all  the  most  heroic  human  actions.  But  as 
for  those  who  brave  death  through  vanity,  because 
they  hope  to  be  applauded  ;  or  from  stupidity,  because 
they  do  not  perceive  the  danger  ;  I  think  they  are 
rather  to  be  lamented  than  approved.  But  when  one 
imperils  his  life  because  he  believes  it  to  be  his  duty, 
or,  indeed,  when  he  suffers  any  other  evil  to  the  end 
that  some  good  may  accrue  to  others,  although  he 
may  not  do  this  with  distinct  recognition  of  the  fact 
that  he  owes  more  to  the  public  of  which  he  forms  a 
part  than  to  himself  as  an  individual,  he  nevertheless 
may  act  from  this  consideration  obscurely  present  to 
his  mind  ;  and  one  is  naturally  led  to  it,  if  he  knows 
and  loves  God  as  he  ought  ;  for  then,  entirely  sur- 
rendering himself  to  his  will,  he  divests  himself  of 
his  own  individual  interests,  and  has  no  other  desire 
than  to  do  what  he  believes  to  be  agreeable  to  the  will 
of  God.  Such  an  one  experiences  an  inward  satisfac- 


ETHICS]  ON  THE  HAPPY  LIFE.  341 

tion  and   content  worth  incomparably  more  than  all 

the  petty  fleeting  joys  of  sense 

Finally,  I  said  above  that,  besides  knowledge  of  the 
truth,  habit  is  also  necessary  to  make  one  disposed 
always  to  decide  correctly  ;  for  inasmuch  as  we  can- 
not give  our  attention  constantly  to  the  same  thing, 
however  clear  and  convincing  may  have  been  the  rea- 
sons which  have  hitherto  persuaded  us  of  any  truth, 
we  may  afterward  be  turned  aside  from  our  belief  in 
it  by  false  appearances,  unless  by  long  and  frequent 
meditation  we  have  so  impressed  it  upon  our  minds 
that  it  has  become  a  habit ;  and  in  this  sense  they  are 
right  in  the  school  in  saying  that  virtues  are  habits  ; 
for  in  fact  one  does  not  fail  in  duty  from  the  lack  of  a 
theoretical  knowledge  of  what  he  ought  to  do,  but 
from  the  want  of  a  practical  possession  of  it,  that 
is  to  say,  from  the  want  of  a  fixed  habit  of  convic- 
tion. . 


ON  THE  HIGHEST  GOOD.* 

I  HAVE  learned  from  M.  Chanut  that  it  pleases  your 
Majesty  that  I  should  have  the  honor  of  laying  be- 
fore you  my  views  concerning  the  highest  good,  con- 
sidered in  the  sense  in  which  the  ancient  philosophers 
discussed  it ;  and  I  esteem  this  command  so  great  a 
favor  that  the  desire  to  obey  it  diverts  my  mind  from 
every  other  thought,  and  leads  me,  without  deprecat- 
ing my  incompetency,  to  put  down  here  in  few  words 
all  that  I  may  know  on  this  subject.  One  may  con- 
sider the  goodness  of  each  thing  in  itself  without  re- 
lation to  other  things,  in  which  sense  it  is  evident  that 
God  is  the  highest  good,  since  he  is  incomparably 
more  perfect  than  the  creatures  ;  but  the  good  may 
also  be  considered  in  respect  to  ourselves,  and  in  this 
sense  I  see  nothing  which  we  ought  to  esteem  good 
but  that  which  may  belong  to  us  in  some  manner,  and 
be  such  as  should  render  our  possession  of  it  a  per- 
fection. 

Thus  the  ancient  philosophers,  who,  unenlightened 
by  the  faith,  knew  nothing  of  supernatural  blessed- 
ness, took  into  account  only  the  goods  we  may  possess 
in  this  life,  and  it  was  among  these  that  they  asked 
themselves  what  was  the  sovereign,  that  is  to  say, 
the  principal  and  the  greatest  good.  But  in  order 
that  I  may  answer  this  question  I  hold  that  we  ought 
to  esteem  as  goods  in  respect  to  ourselves  those  only 

*  Letter  to  Catherine,  Queen  of  Sweden,  (Evvres,  t.  x,  pp. 
59-04- 

343 


ON    THE    HIGHEST    GOOD.  343 

which  we  possess,  or  rather  those  which  we  have  the 
power  to  acquire  ;  and  this  granted,  it  seems  to  me 
that  the  highest  good  of  mankind  in  general  is  the 
sum  or  assemblage  of  all  the  goods,  as  well  of  the 
mind  as  of  the  body  and  of  fortune,  which  may  exist 
in  any  men  ;  but  that  the  highest  good  of  each  one  in 
particular  is  quite  another  thing,  and  that  it  consists 
simply  in  a  steadfast  will  to  do  right,  and  in  the  sat- 
isfaction which  it  produces  ;  the  reason  of  which  is 
that  I  do  not  know  of  any  other  good  which  seems  to 
me  so  great,  or  which  is  so  entirely  within  the  power 
of  each  person.  For,  as  for  the  goods  of  the  body  and 
of  fortune,  they  do  not  depend  absolutely  upon  our- 
selves :  but  those  of  the  mind  all  turn  on  two  principal 
ones,  which  are,  the  one,  to  know,  the  other,  to  will, 
that  which  is  good  ;  but  the  knowledge  of  the  good  is 
often  beyond  our  ability  ;  there  remains,  therefore,  our 
will  alone,  which  we  may  absolutely  control.  And  I 
do  not  see  that  it  is  possible  to  make  a  better  disposi- 
tion of  it,  than  for  one  to  have  always  a  fixed  and  stead- 
fast determination  scrupulously  to  perform  everything 
which  he  shall  judge  to  be  best,  and  to  make  use 
of  all  the  powers  of  his  mind  to  discover  it  ;  it  is  in 
this  alone  that  all  the  virtues  consist  ;  it  is  this  alone 
which,  properly  speaking,  merits  praise  and  honor  ; 
finally,  from  this  alone  results  the  greatest  and  the 
most  solid  satisfaction  of  life  :  accordingly,  I  conceive 
that  in  this  consists  the  highest  good. 

And  by  this  means  I  think  I  can  bring  into  accord- 
ance the  two  most  opposed  and  most  celebrated  theories 
of  the  ancients,  namely,  that  of  Zeno,  who  placed  it 
in  virtue  or  honor,  and  that  of  Epicurus,  who  placed 
it  in  that  form  of  gratification  to  which  he  gave  the 
name  of  pleasure.  For  as  all  vices  proceed  only  from 


344  THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    DESCARTES.     [PART  VI 

the  uncertainty  and  the  weakness  which  follows  igno- 
rance, of  which  the  offspring  is  repentance  ;  so  virtue 
consists  only  in  the  resolution  and  the  energy  with 
which  one  is  borne  on  to  the  doing  of  things  which 
he  thinks  to  be  good  ;  provided  this  energy  does  not 
spring  from  opinionativeness,  but  from  the  fact  that 
he  is  conscious  of  having,  to  the  extent  of  his  moral 
ability,  examined  into  the  matter  ;  and  although  what 
is  then  done  may  be  bad,  he  is  nevertheless  assured 
that  he  did  his  duty  ;  whereas,  if  one  performs  a 
virtuous  action,  and  yet  means  to  do  evil,  or  even  does 
not  take  pains  to  know  what  he  is  doing,  he  does  not 
act  as  a  virtuous  man. 

As  for  honor  and  praise,  they  are  often  bestowed 
upon  the  gifts  of  fortune  ;  but,  as  I  am  sure  that  your 
Majesty  thinks  more  highly  of  your  virtue  than  of 
your  crown,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  here  that  it  seems 
to  me  there  is  nothing  but  virtue  which  can  rightly 
be  praised.  All  other  goods  deserve  simply  to  be 
cherished  and  not  to  be  honored  or  commended,  ex- 
cept on  the  presupposition  that  they  are  acquired,  or 
obtained  from  God,  by  the  right  use  of  our  free  will ; 
for  honor  and  praise  are  a  kind  of  reward,  and  nothing 
but  that  which  depends  upon  the  will  can  be  the  sub- 
ject of  reward  or  punishment. 

There  remains  still  to  show  that  from  the  right  use 
of  free  will  results  the  greatest  and  most  solid  satisfac- 
tion of  life  ;  which  does  not  seem  to  me  to  be  difficult, 
for  considering  carefully  wherein  consists  pleasure  or 
delight,  and  in  general  all  the  forms  of  gratification 
there  may  be,  I  observe,  in  the  first  place,  that  there 
is  none  which  does  not  exist  entirely  within  the  mind, 
although  many  of  them  depend  upon  the  body  ;  just 
as  it  is  the  mind  which  sees,  although  it  be  through 


ETHICS]  ON    THE    HIGHEST    GOOD.  345 

the  medium  of  the  eyes.  I  observe,  next,  that  there 
is  nothing  which  can  afford  satisfaction  to  the  mind 
but  the  thought  that  it  is  in  the  possession  of  some 
good,  and  that  frequently  this  idea  is  nothing  but  a  very 
confused  representation,  and  also  that  its  union  with 
the  body  is  the  cause  of  the  mind's  commonly  repre- 
senting certain  goods  as  incomparably  greater  than 
they  are  ;  but  that  if  it  should  distinctly  recognize 
their  just  value,  its  satisfaction  would  always  be  pro- 
portioned to  the  greatness  of  the  good  whence  it  pro- 
ceeds. 

I  observe,  further,  that  the  greatness  of  a  good  in 
our  esteem  should  not  be  measured  simply  by  the 
value  of  the  thing  in  which  it  consists,  but  mainly  also 
by  the  manner  in  which  it  is  related  to  ourselves  ; 
and  besides,  free  will  being  in  itself  the  noblest  thing 
which  can  exist  within  us,  inasmuch  as  it  renders  us 
in  a  certain  manner  equal  to  God,  and  appears  to  ex- 
empt us  from  being  subject  to  him,  and  by  conse- 
quence its  right  use  is  the  greatest  of  all  our  goods — 
it  is  also  that  which  is  most  peculiarly  our  own,  and  is 
of  the  highest  importance  to  us  ;  whence  it  follows 
that  from  it  alone  can  proceed  our  highest  satisfac- 
tions ;  as  witness,  for  example,  the  peace  of  mind  and 
interior  delight  of  those  who  know  that  they  have 
never  failed  to  do  their  best,  as  well  in  the  effort  to 
know  what  is  good,  as  in  the  gaining  of  it — a  pleasure 
beyond  comparison  more  sweet,  more  lasting,  and 
substantial  than  all  that  come  from  any  other 
source.  . 


INDEX. 


Abelard,  cited,  155. 

Absolute  and  relative,  defined, 

74,  75- 

Acids,  action  of,  218. 
Air,   218,   219,   224,    elements 

of,  227. 

Algebra,  46,  68,  74. 
Anaclastic,  the,  82. 
Analysis  of  the  Ancients,  46. 
Anger,  336. 
Animal  spirits,  276  ff. ,  296. 

A  priori  demonstrations  of  nat- 
ural events,  246. 

Aristotle,  333. 

Arithmetic  and  geometry,  the 
most  certain  sciences,  63. 

Arts,  method  in,  88. 

Attribute,  194,  ff. 

Augustine,  cited,  117. 

A  utomata,  bodies  compared  to, 
280. 

Automatism  of  brutes,  280  ff. 

Axioms,  193. 

Bacon,  Lord,  cited,  86. 

Blood,  circulation  of  the,  295. 

Body,  meaning  of  term,  120; 
extension  its  essence,  176 ; 
divisible,  183;  distinguished 
from  mind,  293;  living  and 
dead,  294;  pleasures  of,  337. 

Brain,  impressions  in,  184,  186. 

Brutes,  ajttomata,  281  ff. ;  do 
not  think,  282  ;  have  no 
proper  language,  283  ;  have 
no  souls,  285. 

Catherine,Queen,  letter  to,  342. 


Cause  and  effect,  76  ;  reality 
in,  132. 

Chance,  no  such  power,  316. 

Chaos,  235. 

Circular,  all  movements,  222. 

Clearness  and  distinctness  in 
conception,  test  of  truth,  126, 
154,  165,  169,  176,  179,  191. 

Cogito,  ergo  sum,  115. 

Coleridge,  cited,  292,  297,  325. 

Colors,  in  objects,  203. 

Comets,  230,  251  ff. 

Compassion,  324. 

Composite  and  simple  objects, 

85,  97- 

Conarium,  299. 

Conception,  distinguished  from 
imagination,  169. 

Concurrence  of  God,  156,  194. 

Connection,  contingent  and 
necessary,  100. 

Contempt  and  esteem,  320. 

Contentment,  329,  330  ;  rules 
for  securing.  330  ff. 

Contradiction,  test  of  impos- 
sibility, 169. 

Corporeal  things,  ideas  of,  135; 
proof  of  their  existence,  178. 

Death,  cause  of,  293. 

Deduction  and  intuition,  the 
paths  to  knowledge,  64,  79  ; 
how  rehted,  90. 

Definitions,  logical,  118,  119. 

Desire,  defined,  311  ;  where 
the  issue  depends  upon  our- 
selves, 314  ;  and  upon  other 
things,  315;  what  sort  is  com- 
patible with  happiness,  331. 


347 


INDEX. 


Diophantes,  mathematician,  70. 
Discipline  of  the  mind,  the  end 

of  studies,  61. 
Distinct  and  clear  conceptions   j 

true,  126. 
Doubt,   not   for  doubt's  sake, 

56;   the  starting-point,  113, 

187. 
Duration,  195. 

Earth,  element  of,  227 ;  the, 
230;  motion  of  the,  260. 

Elements,  their  number,  etc., 
226,  228,  229. 

Eloquence,  nature  of,  39. 

Eminently,  133,  137,  178. 

Emotions,  interior,  317. 

End  of  action,  333. 

Energy,  active  and  passive,  95. 

Enumeration,  methodical,  77  ; 
or  induction,  78,  79  ;  suf- 
ficient, 79,  80. 

Epicurus,  333,  334,  343. 

Erdmann,  reference  to,  99. 

Error,  nature  and  source  of, 
148,  150  ;  in  judgments  based 
upon  the  senses,  174. 

Esteem  and  contempt,  320. 

Existence  of  God  not  separable 
from  his  essence,  162. 

Extension,  159  ;  essence  of 
body,  176,  200,  236. 

Faculties,  employed  in  knowl- 
edge, 83,  85,  92  ;  active  and 
passive,  177  ;  of  mind,  not 
parts,  183. 

Faith,  verities  of  the,  55  ;  an 
act  of  will,  65. 

Feeling,  nature  of,  172. 

Final  cause,  not  to  be  sought 
in  nature,  149,  184. 

Fire,  element  of,  226,  229,  231. 

Fischer,  K.,  references  to,  58, 
84,  139,  144,  n. 

Flame,  211,  217,  219,  228. 

Fluids,  215,  216,  217,  220. 

Gassendi,  reply  to,  116. 
General  notions,  192. 


Geometry  and  arithmetic,  the 
most  certain  sciences,  63. 

Gland,  pineal,  276  ff.,  298  ff. 

God,  proofs  of  existence  of, 
126  ff.,  144  ;  idea  of,  132, 
135.  137,  195  ;  first  of  innate 
ideas,  165;  all  other  knowl- 
edge dependent  on  the  knowl- 
edge of,  166,  168  ;  the  only 
substance,  194  ;  concourse  of , 
necessary  to  perception,  194  ; 
immutable,  239,  243  ;  author 
of  all  movements  in  the  uni- 
verse, 248. 

Good,    the   highest,    333,   342, 

343- 
Goods,  of  the  body  and  of  the 

mind,  343. 
Gravity,  theory  of,  259  ff. 

Habit,  necessary  to  virtue,  338, 

341; 

Happiness,  true,  331  ;  distin- 
guished from  the  highest 
good,  332,  333. 

Harvey,  reference  to,  295. 

Hatred  and  love,  denned,  310. 
_Heartj__structure  and  action 
of,  295  ijnot  the  seat  of  the 
passions,  301. 

Heat,  nature  of^~2ii,  213  ;  of 
the  heart,  224,  280,  296. 

Heavens,  nature  of  the,  230; 
movements  of,  the  cause  of 
the  motions  of  the  stars,  etc., 
251  ff. 

Highmindedness,  315,  321  ff. 

History,  defects  of,  39. 

Hobbes,  cited,  154. 

Honor  and  Praise,  how  rightly 
bestowed,  344. 

Humility,  323. 

Hyperaspistes,  reply  to,  128  n. 

I — a  thing  which  thinks,  142. 

I  think,  therefore  I  am — a  nec- 
essary truth,  115;  not  the  con- 
clusion of  a  syllogism,  116; 
not  identical  with  reasonings 
of  Augustine,  117. 


INDEX. 


349 


Idea,  a  first,  134. 

Ideas,  94,  127,  135;  received 
by  the  senses,  173. 

Imagination,  aid  to  intellect, 
83;  part  of  the  body,  94;  na- 
ture of,  169. 

Immortal,  brutes  not,  285. 

immortality  of  the   soul,  337, 

339- 

Inertia,  law  of,  239. 
Infinite,   a  positive  idea,   138; 

God  actually  so,  140. 
Intelligence,  the  first  thing  to 

be  known,  61,  83. 
Intuition,  conditions  of,  90;  and 

deduction,  the  path  to  truth, 

64,  104. 

Joy,  defined,  311. 

Judgments,  from  impulse,  con- 
jectures, deduction,  103;  the 
source  of  error,  127. 

Kant,  references  to,  84,  180. 

Knowledge,  only  certain,  to  be 
sought,  62;  what  it  is  and 
how  far  it  extends,  84;  intel- 
lect alone  capable  of,  85; 
whether  it  may  increase  to  in- 
finity, 139. 

Language,     belongs     to    man 

alone,  282. 

Life,  the  happy,  329. 
Light,  nature  of,  207,  250,  262; 

ff . ;  properties  of,  265  ff. 
Logic,  opinion  of,  45,  67,  89. 
Logical  distinction,  198,  199. 
Love  and  hatred,  defined,  310. 

Mahaffy,  reference  to,  1 54. 
Man,    the    body    of,    275    ff. ; 

compared  to  a  machine,  278. 
Mathematics,      love     of,    39  ; 

meaning  of    term,    71;    the 

universal  science,  72. 
Mathematical     truth,   why    we 

may  doubt  it,  112. 
Matter,   primary,    234;  essence 

of,  its  extension,  236;  its  ten- 


dency to  move  in  straight 
lines,  243  ff. 

Memory,  employed  in  knowl- 
edge, 83,  85,  92;  explained, 
303- 

Method,  necessity  of,  66. 

Mind,  always  thinks,  128  n.; 
its  essence,  thought,  176;  in- 
divisible, 183;  receives  im- 
pressions solely  from  the 
brain,  184:  power  over  the 
body,  302;  pleasures  of,  336. 

Miracles,  not  wrought  in  the 
new  world,  246. 

Modal  distinction,  198,  199. 

Modes,  192,  196. 

Motion,  heat  and  light,  modes 
of,  211,  213  ;  forms  of,  215  ; 
always  circular,  222,  243, 
247  ;  of  matter  at  creation, 
235,  238 ;  three  rules  of, 
239  ff. ;  simplest  form  of, 
240. 

Moral  code,  50. 

Natural  phenomena,  all  are 
modes  of  motion,  245. 

Nature,  light  of,  130,  132,  136, 
140,  142,  146,  155  ;  the  or- 
der established  by  God  in 
creation,  179  ;  truth  of  its 
teachings,  179,  180;  falsity 
of  its  teachings,  181,  187 ; 
sense  of  the  term,  179,  181, 
238. 

Negation  and  privation,  99, 
156. 

Nerves,  origin  in  the  brain,  94, 
184. 

Notions,  simple,  192;  common, 
or  axioms,  193. 

Number,  197. 

Object  and  idea,  131. 
Objective  reality,  132. 
Ontological   argument   for  the 
being  of  God,  162  ff. 

Pain  and  pleasure,  sensations 
of,  209. 


35° 


INDEX. 


Pappus,  mathematician,  70. 

Particular  truths  known  before 
general,  117. 

Particles,  into  which  matter  is 
divisible,  216,  219. 

Passion,  is  action,  291  ;  dis- 
tinguished from  bodily  func- 
tions, 292  ;  effect  of,  302, 
335,  330,  338. 

Passions,  primary  causes  of, 
307  ;  their  service,  307,  310, 
313 ;  how  their  number  is 
determined,  307  ff. ;  due  to 
the  motions  of  the  blood  and 
spirits,  312  ;  upon  them  de- 
pend all  the  good  and  evil  of 
this  life,  325. 

Perceptible,  what  objects  are, 
224. 

Perception,  is  thought,  122  ; 
the  self  known  in,  124  ;  de- 
pendent on  motion,  224. 

Perfection,  of  the  universe,  150, 
157;  pleasure  measured  by, 
335  ;  true  object  of  love,  335. 

Perspicacity,  how  cultivated,  87. 

Philosophy,  opinion  of,  40. 

Pineal  gland,  276,  298  ff. 

Pity,  324. 

Planets,  230,  251  ff.,  255  ff.; 
scintillations  of,  272. 

Pleasure,  senses  of  the  term, 
333  ;  as  end  of  action,  334  ; 
measure  of,  335  ;  kinds, 

335  ff- 

Poetry,  39. 

Preservation,  continued  crea- 
tion, 141. 

Privation,  99,  155. 

Probable  opinions,  when  to  be 
followed,  52. 

Providence,  divine,  315,  316. 

Real  distinction,  198. 

Reason,  intuitive  and  discur- 
sive, 99  ;  office  of,  336,  337. 

Regret,  how  avoided,  331. 

Relative  and  Relations,  defined, 
75- 

Revenge,  336. 


Sadness,  defined,  312. 
Sagacity,  how  cultivated,  87. 
Science,  nothing  but  the  human 

intelligence,  61. 
Sciences,   all   bound    together, 

62. 
Self,  existence  of,  undeniable, 

114. 

Self-esteem,  ground  of,  321. 
Seneca,  reference  to,  329,  332, 

333- 
Sense,  perceives  passively,  93  ; 

the  common,  93,  94,  184. 
Senses,  deceive  us,  108. 
Sensations,  172,  202,  213. 
Sensible  qualities,  136. 
Simple  and   composite  things, 

85,  97- 

Sleep,  illusions  in,  109. 

Society,  interests  of,  to  be  pre- 
ferred to  those  of  self,  339  ff . 

Solids,  215,  216,  217,  220. 

Soul,  united  to  the  body,  297  ; 
ana  DOdy,  how  they  act  on 
one  another ,_30i  ;  conflict  of 
inferior  and  superior  parts, 
305  ff . 

Sound,  nature  of,  208. 

Space,  not  empty,  221. 

Stars,  fixed,  230  ;  scintillations 
of,  270. 

Substance,  136  ;  infinite  and 
finite,  138;  defined,  194; 
two  forms  of,  I94j  ,2Ojo_2Q2._. 

Sun  and  stars,  formation  of, 
247  ff. 

Syllogism,  of  no  use  in  discov- 
ery, 90. 

Theology,  reverence  for,  40. .    , 
Thinking  substance,  the  mind,  ; 

176,  200. 

Thought,  what  it  is,  115,  121.    \ 
Time,   distinguished   from  du- 

ration,  196. 

Understanding,  not  the  source 
of  error,  151;  should  precede 
will,  155. 

Uniformity  of  motion  and  fig- 


INDEX. 


351 


ure,  tendency  of  matter  to- 
ward, 247  ff. 

Universal  and  particular  no- 
tions, 75. 

Universals,  197. 

Vacuum,  220,  221,  223,  247. 

Veitch,  references  to,  58,  125, 
126,  127,  129,  132,  133,  144, 
153,  177,  178,  193,  207,  220. 

Verities,  eternal,  245. 

Vices,  source  of,  343,  344. 

Virtue,  the  remedy  for  the  pas- 
sions, 318  ;  depends  upon 
ourselves,  330  ;  defined,  331, 
344  ;  alone  worthy  of  praise, 
344. 


Volition,  effect  of,  on  the  body, 
Voluntary,  term  defined,  310. 


Will,  its  range,  152,  156  ;  cause 
of  error,  153  ;  understanding 
must  precede,  155. 

Wisdom,  depends  upon  our- 
selves, 330. 

Wonder,  308. 

Words,  as  symbols,  207. 

World,  description  of  a  new, 
233  ff. 


Zeno,  reference  to,  333,  343. 


i  A- — 


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